A Rain on the Tiles
by KSlycke
Summary: For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M This is outside of my comfort zone. I hope to do it justice.
1. Chapter 1

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Outside the Rain Begins

Chapter One

0030

Trick Shot could see Firewall in his scope. She was approximately fifteen hundred yards and standing up behind the sparse yucca and cactus of the desert night. She couldn't have been more visible if she was neon. He grinned.

After coming back from Sierra Gordo Trick Shot thought for sure that whatever chance he had of being a sniper was gone forever. He missed too many things. He made too much noise. He lost Low Light and stepped in monkey shit. His first mission ended disastrously with a near miss of the ninja Snake Eyes. Or near hit. It depended on how it looked.

He thought he would never be paired with Low Light again. The legend didn't even bother to talk to him. He spent that first weekend three sheets to the wind drinking in a downtown bar with the rest of the greenshirts. To them he was Trick Shot. He made that impossible shot from one and a half miles. They paraded him around like a badge of honor.

The entire weekend he had to be reminded of it.

And the more they reminded him the more he drank.

They were off for four glorious days. For Trick Shot he just wanted to forget. He dreaded the coming Monday morning.

When the sun finally hit it was like the eye of God accusing him of all of his sins of the previous weekend. He was hung over, his eyes were blood shot, he leaned too far to the left during morning reveille and when he took his position on the roof he had to be reminded by Janack.

She stared at him as if she could see every action of the previous night on his face. She glanced once at his sniping rifle. It was now Knight Armament but to him it would always be a M.A.R.S. weapon. Thankfully she didn't say anything. She gave report in her usual professional clipped manner and left. Trick Shot felt like a loser. The rest of the day he just wanted it to be over with.

Trick Shot cringed when Low Light came to relieve him. He couldn't look him in the eye. He knew as much as Low Light did what really happened in Sierra Gordo. He bit back whatever pride he had and stumbled with his report. Throughout it all Low Light only looked at the desert. He was busy setting up his M110.

It wasn't until he was scanning his badge to leave that Low Light said anything.

"Psyche Out wants to see you." He said.

He stopped with his hand on the door knob. He thought that was for weirdoes or soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Never in his mind did he think it would be _him_. He had to wonder what Low Light told the psychiatrist about him.

Trick Shot considered himself a pretty stable person. He didn't have any hang ups that he knew of. He wasn't old enough to carry baggage. He certainly wasn't Low Light. The man had more neurosis than he had fingers. It was no secret on base he was one of Psyche Out's regulars. Now that it was his turn he was nervous.

He swallowed. Day old beer and whiskey hit the back of his throat "What for?" He asked.

Low Light crouched down and checked his sites. "It's just protocol Dixon." He said. "Get used to it."

Unlike the rest of the team Low Light still called him Dixon. He was glad. He didn't want to be reminded any more. Except for four days ago in the middle of the night it was the most Low Light said to him. He didn't know what the night sniper did on his nights off. He didn't want to know.

He nodded and walked down the endless flight of stairs. His mind was racing with all of the possibilities. He didn't even know where Psyche Out's office was. He would feel stupid asking someone. Instead he wandered the corridors until he found it.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was close to eight PM. He didn't know if the psychiatrist was still there. He heard a "Come in."

The office was a lot bigger than Trick Shot imagined it. The room was carpeted for one. In the corner was a fake tree and in the center were two large chairs. In the corner Psyche Out was looking over a file. It had to be at least fifty pages. Trick Shot didn't think there was that much to say about him. He panicked a moment. The military was anything but precise.

To his surprise Psyche Out closed it. On the front was written "Cooper G. MacBride." It was strange to see Low Light's name on the front. To him he was known only as Low Light. Psyche Out put it aside and opened a smaller thinner file. On it was "Michael J. Dixon."

Psyche Out motioned him towards a chair and walked from behind his desk. He took out a notebook. Trick Shot felt uncomfortable. He kept shifting in the overstuffed chair. His knee bounced uncontrollably. It was a habit from when he was a teenager. His mom used to say he was sexually frustrated. He tried to stop it.

Psyche Out looked up. "Welcome back Michael." He said. "I believe this is our first session. It is protocol for a sniper to be seen after a mission. The military and I believe that it helps a soldier to understand his role. How are you feeling?" He said.

The kid looked jumpy enough. He also smelled of alcohol. It was all written down on the file in front of him.

"I feel fine. I mean, I'm good. I mean, yeah, I feel fine." Trick Shot said. "What's up?"

"That's good, Michael. I just wanted to talk. It's just standard questions and then you can leave." Psyche Out said. He opened the file. "It says here that you are the only child of Sharon Dixon. Your father is stated as Captain Michael W. Andrews of the United States Army. They were never married. You're still close with your mother." Psyche Out began.

Trick Shot nodded. "Well, yeah, we did alright. My mom is a great mom. She's the best." Trick Shot said. "What does that have to do with anything?" His knee started jiggling again.

"I'm just stating what is in your file Michael." Psyche Out said "And what about your father?" Psyche Out asked.

He had to pause. "He's in Germany I guess. I've seen him a couple times. He has a wife and kids there." He said. He shrugged.

Psyche Out nodded and wrote that in his file. "Is that what influenced you to become infantry?" He asked.

Trick Shot stopped. He couldn't believe he was being asked these questions. "What? No. I mean, I grew up at Fort Leonard Wood." He said. "I guess it was just what I knew. Everyone else was."

"Yes your file states that your mother is a Registered Nurse in the Intensive Care Unit at St. John's Ozark Health Services. She never served."

"Hey wait a second!" Trick Shot said. "You make it look like my mom's some kind of base hopper! She's not like that!"

Sharon Dixon never married. She never had the time to date. She was too busy being a single mom to a son in a military town set in the middle of Missouri. They didn't live fancy but they did have a good life. To her the sun rose and set in her sons' eyes. They were best friends.

That hit a raw nerve with him. Psyche Out wrote it down. A base hopper was the kind of woman that either wanted a military man as a husband or would go around from town to town sleeping with anyone with a uniform. His knee was going a mile a minute.

Psyche Out put his hand up. "Alright Michael, that's the end of these questions. It is only part of your file. Now let's move onto Sierra Gordo." He said. "You were on a mission for three days with Low Light. Until the night of July 23rd when you were stationed overlooking a Cobra position. How did that make you feel?" He asked.

"What?" Trick Shot had to think about it for a moment. At one point the psychiatrist was asking him about his mom and now he was asking him about the mission. He had to think about it. "It was fine. It was a success." He said. His knee stopped and he sat back in the chair.

"As Low Light's protégé it must have felt like a lot of pressure." Psyche Out said.

Trick Shot blinked and stared at him "Protégé?" He said.

"Well yes, as Low Light's apprentice it must have felt like a lot of pressure for you to perform up to his standards." Psyche Out said. "The GI Joe team and Low Light have strict standards for a night sniper. How did that make you feel?"

Trick Shot dropped his jaw. Up until that moment no one said anything. He didn't have a clue.

Psyche Out could see it on his face.

That was two months ago. Now he was outside on drills targeting Firewall in the Utah desert. It was well past midnight. His goggles made everything as clear as if it were daylight. Beside him Low Light looked through the scope. Tonight was the first night he wasn't designated as spotter. Tonight he had Firewall in his sites.

He smiled.

"Send it." He heard Low Light say.

He saw Firewall jump and then a scream across the desert. "Hit it." He said.

Across her head there was bright pink paint slowly dripping down her face. Then just because he felt like it, he shot her in the ass. Next to him he heard Low Light give his low coarse laugh.

"You asshole! You didn't have to shoot me in the face!" He heard Firewall say. The com was busy laughing. She was wiping at her butt trying to clear pink paint from her BDU's.

"It was a big target." Trick Shot said. He grinned.

"Ha Ha very funny. OK, I'm dead. I get it. You still have Snake Eyes and Scarlet to deal with Trick Shot." Firewall said.

Somewhere still out there were Snake Eyes and Scarlet. They were waiting for them. Their perimeter was close to two miles. That was the furthest that Low Light would trust Trick Shot. Ever since he became his apprentice Low Light was slowly but surely expanding his field of view. With the new Knight Armament sniping rifle he could make it to three miles. Low Light never let him go that far.

Trick Shot took sweeps across the desert like Low Light showed him. If they were out there he would find them. He was working on his night vision. His stealth was still nonexistent but once in his sites Trick Shot was the best there was.

He was the best after Low Light that is.

Low Light held up his hand. He made two fingers. Then he made a fist and a five. That meant there were two targets at fifteen hundred feet. They were moving in close. He switched to infra red. The only thing he could see was Firewall's heat signature eighteen hundred yards away. He took his time moving from left to right.

"I don't see anything Low Light." He whispered.

His goggles were blank.

Next to him Low Light was gone. He didn't hear him leave. The spotting scope stood empty.

Outside the rain began.

Trick Shot swallowed. It was the cover of the night. He was on his own now. He lay on his belly and tried to control his breathing. He felt like every inhale and exhale could be seen. He tried to remember his training and stayed still. Low Light could stay still for hours if not days if he had to. Trick Shot was still working on it.

He didn't hear it as much as he felt it. By then it was too late. He felt the pink paint spread across his back and dropped his head. He groaned. That was the fifth time in two months. Above him Scarlet was smiling with her crossbow. He held his hands up over his head.

"Got you" He heard her say.

"Got _you"_ is what Low Light said.

On her chest was a blossoming pink shot spreading out in a direct hit. Scarlet hissed.

"God Damnit Low Light."

By then Low Light was back in the shadows. It was just him and Snake Eyes. They enjoyed it. Snake Eyes was quick and deadly but when it came to ruling the night, no one was better than Low Light. It was a game between the two. It would go on for hours.

Each one would move slowly and decisively keeping out of range. The rest gave up and headed back to base. They knew that it would be daylight by the time the two showed up. By then they would be covered in paint or not covered at all.

This morning they showed up arguing. Snake Eyes was deliberately signing. *You hit my sword. It doesn't count*.

"It was a hit. It counts." Low Light said. Across his shoulder was the M110. On Snake Eyes sword was pink paint.

*You didn't hit me. You hit my sword.* He signed.

"It's still a hit." Low Light said.

"Leave it alone Snake Eyes. Low Light got you." Scarlet sighed. "I'll make it up to you."

They thought they saw Snake Eyes smile and then it disappeared.

They were at the mess hall having breakfast. For Low Light and Trick Shot that meant water and runny eggs. They had to be on duty at 1800. The rest could have coffee. They still had to go to sleep. With the Sonata Low Light seemed to sleep a bit better. The sleeping pill helped him sleep but it didn't cure the nightmares. Still it was better than what he felt in years.

Trick Shots phone rang.

It was his mom.

"Oh shit I forgot my mom was supposed to come this weekend." He said. "It'll be great! Just wait until you meet her."

He opened his phone like a kid at Christmas. It was the first time they talked in weeks. She didn't know about Sierra Gordo or his apprenticeship.

"Hi mom! Guess what!" He said.

End Chapter One

Outside the rain Begins

What will happen when Low Light meets Dixon's mom


	2. Chapter 2

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Two

Casting Seasons to the Wind

1600

Sharon Dixon was tall. At her son's shoulder she was close to five foot nine. She had the same brown hair cut into a stylish bob that accentuated her cheekbones. She wore it that way to keep it out of her face. As a Registered Nurse she did a lot of bending over. She couldn't have her hair hanging in a patients' wound or breathing tube. She held herself with military precision.

It was years of dealing with Army men from Fort Leonard Wood. It showed. Her eyes were the same as Trick Shot's but other than that the similarity ended. Trick Shot had his father's angular nose and lips. It was the one that the upper one was smaller than the lower one. It always made him look like it was in a pout. His height he inherited from his mother.

Next to her son her smile was wide and bright. Trick Shot had the same smile. It was probably from expensive dental work that the nurse couldn't afford but sacrificed for the sake of her son. She was proud. It was the first time since basic that she had the chance to see Trick Shot on base. Otherwise it was holiday dinners back in Missouri. That's when she watched her son grow into a man.

Trick Shot seemed to change every time she saw him. If she was asked the worst thing a mother could imagine was seeing her son in uniform. Now she couldn't imagine him without it. He was much more confident than the child she sent away to boot camp four years ago. The military was good for him.

She walked the halls with Trick Shot and met his friends. She wore sensible shoes and jeans with a stylish up to date button down shirt she wore beneath a winter jacket. To the greenshirts she was Mrs. Dixon even though she never married. It was just the way she portrayed herself. She didn't correct them. She was over forty but still had a woman's body if not a little bit wider in the hips. The kids didn't notice but the older soldiers did. They glanced behind them as she walked.

If Trick Shot noticed he didn't say anything. He was too excited showing her around the base. She flew in from Missouri to Salt Lake City Utah and rented a room at the outskirts of town. It was family week and she saved her money to come here. She knew it mattered to her son. The hospital afforded her the paid time off. She looked forward to the time she could spend with her son.

As far as she could tell she was the only single mother of the group. The rest sat with husbands and children that were all military. That was the way it was Michael's entire life.

She was only twenty years old when the Captain left her pregnant. As soon as he found out he was on his way to Germany to his wife and kids. Sharon never forgot that. She worked full time waiting tables at the local diner while she went to nursing school. She gave birth to Michael in her second semester. She named him after his father.

It was hard but she did it. Michael was the center of her universe. It was what she lived for. When he met his father for the first time she thought he would leave. Instead he chomped on pizza across from the Captain and played Whack-A-Mole. He didn't seem to care.

When she told him that was his father he yawned and went to bed.

"OK mom see you in the morning." He said.

He was thirteen.

When he was eighteen the Captain came to his graduation from boot camp. He sat in the bleachers. He was a lot older now. His hair was salt and pepper. He still wore it military style. Dixon looked more and more like him every day. The Captain watched and stayed silent. She was never as proud as that moment. When it was all over she was the first one on the field. In her hand was the disposable camera she bought for a buck ninety-nine. The Captain put his arm around his son and she took the picture. It was the only one they had of father and son.

He was twenty-two now.

She met and was introduced to General Hawk. Unlike the other mothers that offered their finger tips in a soft hello that left him feeling like he just shook hands with a noodle this woman looked him straight in the eye and offered him her hand in a firm grip. She kept the General's gaze. She didn't look away. If it piqued his interest he didn't say. Still he afforded her more than the usual politeness.

"You should be very impressed with your son Mrs. Dixon." Hawk said. "He is an asset to the GI Joe team. He will make a useful team member."

It was the usual bullshit that he gave to every parent he met. She didn't let go of his hand or break eye contact. To his surprise she laughed instead.

It was a bark of a laugh that left the rest of the room looking over. It was loud. It was sudden. It was embarrassing. When she laughed she let everyone know. She was never one for hiding her feelings especially when she was happy. Trick Shot looked around hoping no one else heard it.

"Of course I'm proud! I wouldn't be here if I wasn't proud of my son, General Hawk."

That was another thing about Mrs. Dixon. Where the other mothers shook hands and stepped politely aside none of them called him by his name and rank. She dropped her hand and looked him in the eye. She smiled. And when she smiled General Hawk smiled. He saw himself laughing and shaking his head.

"I can see where your son gets his eyes from. He'll make a good sniper yet."

That was what she wanted to know. She didn't have to know any regulatory mandated rhetoric from General Hawk. She finally stepped back. Her son was going to be a sniper. He was going to be a sniper on the GI Joe team. He was going to be the best of the best. When she walked away General Hawk watched her go.

Low Light stood stiffly in the corner. He never had to deal with family week. He didn't have to. Now he had Dixon. That meant taking out his dress uniform and cleaning up. Across his left chest were various tabs and medals. The more ostentatious ones he left behind. He stood halfway in the shadows. It didn't stop Dixon. He was used to Low Light hiding. Most people passed him by. It was odd to see him cleaned and shaved with his dress uniform on. Without his goggles his grey eyes stared at the crowd. He made a direct line to Low Light. He was smiling ear to ear.

"Mom this is my instructor Low Light." Trick Shot said. "Low Light, this is my mom."

When they met it was with an audible thunk.

Sharon Dixon stood at her son's left shoulder. She seemed to laugh in a way that reached her eyes. They sparkled when she looked at her son. Her face was cut by the light in a smile that stopped when she saw him. She seemed to be reading him. Without his goggles on he felt exposed. It was as if she was staring directly at him. And she knew. He was the first to look away.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Low Light." Sharon Dixon said. She held out her hand. "My son has said a lot about you. They say you're the best. I'm glad Michael can learn from you." She held her hand out for what seemed like an eternity. Low Light only heard half of what she said. All he could see was her lips. It was as if she knew what he was thinking. None of it was honorable. He grunted instead. Next to her Dixon was oblivious. He would have him in his sights if he knew what Low Light was thinking.

He coughed.

"Low Light? Low Light?" Dixon held his hand in front of his face. "Don't worry mom. He's like that." He said. She stared at him some more. She had the same eyes as Dixon. They peirced everywhere they looked. "Come on let's go see Firewall. You'll like her."

"Firewall. Is that the girl you were telling me about?" She asked. She was already walking away. She gave a glance behind her and laughed. Compared to Low Light's her laugh was hard and loud. It was the laugh that someone would give when they didn't care who heard it. Low Light's laugh was low and coarse. Her back was cut into a V showing off her hips and legs. Her hips swayed with each step. It was too enticing to ignore. He would dream about it tonight.

He rubbed a hand through his hair. He snorted. He wasn't talkative on a good day. With Sharon Dixon in front of him he was speechless."Get a grip of yourself Cooper. It's Dixon's mom." He said. If she didn't think he was weird before she did now. He shook his head. He was done with family week. He never wanted do another one. Next week when it was over Dixon would be back in training. Sharon Dixon would be back in Missouri. It was over before it began.

Trick Shot was standing in front of the American Flag on neutral ground with his mother. They were finished with the tour. He was busy taking her back to her car. It was a maroon rental SUV with Utah license plates. If anything could be worse it was the image of his apprentice with his mother. Low Light stopped. He turned around. That direction would take him back to the party. He turned around again. That way led to his room. He would have to walk past them. Not only did he stand and stare he forgot to shake her hand. Now it looked like he was stalking her. Mrs. Dixon didn't seem to notice. She turned back to her son.

"Thanks for coming mom." Trick Shot said. "I'll see you in the morning. I'll take you out to breakfast. There's this place in town that has the best pie. I'll bring Firewall."

Sharon Dixon smiled. "My son the GI Joe sniper." She said.

Dixon opened the door for her and she started the car. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before she backed up. She turned around and looked. Beneath the American Flag the dusk to dawn lights were just beginning to flicker on. Soon it would be time for Last Post. Behind the dark Low Light was looking at her too intensely.

She ignored it.

End Chapter Two

Catching Seasons to the Wind

I guess Sharon Dixon is not a big fan of Low Light. He is. What happens next?


	3. Chapter 3

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Throw it to the Wind

Chapter Three

0400

He thought he heard rain. At this time of year it wouldn't be unusual. The Utah desert would drop into the forties and fifties at night. Then it would rise to the seventies and eighties during the day. It was like that in the fall before winter set in. The rock and canyons would be covered in a dusting of snow. The sun would hang in the sky spreading long shadows. It cast the world in a perpetual state of twilight. He always enjoyed this time of year. It brought back good memories.

Low Light lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He didn't know if it was the rain that woke him up. He was having a very vivid dream. His body told him. He was stiff and the back of his neck was covered in sweat. It made the curls at the base of his spine kink up. First and foremost on his mind was Sharon Dixon. It was her eyes studying him. The way she looked from behind glancing over her shoulder. Her laugh. Those hips.

He turned over. Across from him Beachhead was snoring. That must have been what woke him up. It was almost time for him to be awake doing drills. Low Light had to wait for any kind of relief. It was frustrating. His confinement to base didn't help. It was making him cranky. He would have to find some release soon. He opted to get up instead. Lying in bed wasn't helping his fantasies.

He padded to the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the light. Maybe if he was quiet.

He heard Beachhead wake up and cussed. He almost broke his nose trying to open the door. Low Light wished he had. He wasn't used to him being here. The majority of the time he had the room to himself. Low Light used it as a place to hang his hat. He was never here. When he was awake he was roaming. That's where he was going. Beachhead pounded on the door.

"Low Light?" He said.

"Yeah in a minute Beach." Low Light replied. All he really needed to do was splash some water on his face and get dressed and he would be out the door. He passed him on his way out.

"What are you doing up? Are you just getting in?" Beachhead asked. He could never tell if it was early or late for him.

"I couldn't sleep." Low Light said.

That was enough for Beachhead. Low Light suffered from chronic insomnia. It was nothing new. Sometimes he was awake for days. He would sleep in clusters. He would sleep for two or three hours at a time. Then he would collapse. He was lucky if the monsters stayed away. His night terrors left him immobilized. It was a vicious cycle. Beachhead didn't know how he functioned. When asked he would shrug and say that it was just something he got used to.

This time it wasn't nightmares. It was Sharon Dixon. She followed him from his dream to the roof of the Pit. It was where he could think. He set up next to Janack. The female sniper was used to his odd hours. There was no explanation needed. The rain was a fine mist. It would stop by morning. In the meantime he watched Beachhead run his greenshirts through the mud. It was 5 AM.

Low Light would usually sit on the roof until sunrise. Even on his days off that was where he was found. This morning he had a lot of things on his mind. He was edgier. He looked out at the desert sky too long. It was as if he was trying to make a decision. Fortunately Janack didn't ask when he left abruptly.

There were only two things Low Light would risk disobeying orders for. The first one was food and the second one was sex. He wasn't hungry. He didn't want to admit to himself what he was planning. In his mind it would work. It was juvenile. It was something he hadn't done in years. By that time he was on his motorcycle. He showed his ID to the guard. The greenshirt at the gate didn't stop him.

He had a 2008 Harley Davidson Road King done in Harley black. The bitch seat was studded all around. It had matching dual saddle bags in leather. The chrome highway pegs he added himself. He had customized exhausts he modified louder. He was tired of assholes trying to kill him. If they didn't see him they damn well heard him. When he started it the entire base could hear it. That was his warning to others before he made rounds of the motor pool. They listened for his bike.

It was a forty-five minute ride into town. The sun was coming up. His helmet had a retractable visor tinted to shade his eyes. He hadn't ridden his bike in weeks. It felt good to be on the road. It was a sense of freedom. He was used to riding a motorcycle. He rode a bike all of his life. He was too enclosed and trapped in a car. It felt more dangerous where other people thought the opposite was true.

Low Light watched the scenery go by without paying attention. He knew where he was going. He was going to the diner. He knew which one Dixon said. He would stop by in the morning after a night of drinking and sober up before heading back to base. Charlene was the AM waitress. Everyone called her Charlie. Low Light knew her for years. She was good for scratching an itch. That was as far as it went for both of them.

When he pulled in he had a moment of lucidity. He suddenly had no idea what he was doing. His plan was to have breakfast and wait. Eventually Dixon would come with his mother. It would be coincidence. He hadn't planned any further than that. All he knew was he wanted to see her again. Maybe he would apologize for yesterday. It sounded better in his mind.

He stopped and pulled his helmet off. He had jeans and a black T-shirt with Night Ops on the front. On the back it said Do It in the Dark. It was a souvenir from the 2005 sniper competition from Fort Benning. They held the tournament every year. He participated in seventy-two hours of virtually non-stop competition with only two four hour rest breaks in the three days. It was a good way of meeting his opposition. Someday he might take Dixon.

Low Light looked around. He was early. Charlie greeted him with a smile and a pot of coffee. Like anyone she heard him pull up.

"Hey stranger I haven't seen you in a while. Where have you been hiding?" She grinned. She waddled when she walked. Low Light had to look twice. Charlie was either eating a lot of pie or she was very pregnant. He felt a moment of dread hit him running from his spine to his toes.

Charlie laughed. "Relax soldier it's not yours." She said. "Butch decided to make an honest woman out of me." She held out her left hand showing off a new looking diamond wedding ring. She looked happy. "A lot has changed in eight months. Where have you been?" She asked.

Low Light knew who Butch was. The entire town did. At six foot four he was two inches taller than Low Light. He also outweighed him by fifty pounds. He was a former 88M Motor Transport Operator. They were the truck drivers of the Army. He never gave it up. He traded it for a civilian job. He had arm sleeves now and let his beard grow to his chest. Beside Low Light no one fucked with Butch. Charlie and their family would be well protected with him around.

Low Light smiled back. "Congratulations Charlie." He said.

"Thanks Coop. So what can I get you?" She asked. In town no one called him Low Light. They either called him Coop, Cooper, or MacBride. The code names were left to base. "Let's see, it's a coffee black and a piece of cherry pie?" She said.

Low Light laughed and shook his head. Charlie had a good memory. She filled his cup and went in the back for pie.

He had four pieces of pie and three cups of coffee by the time Dixon showed up. He had Firewall with him. He opened the door and let her in first. Behind her Sharon Dixon walked in. They were talking like old friends. She laughed at something the computer specialist said. He felt something catch in his throat when he heard it. Now that she was here he wanted to hide.

He didn't know what he expected. Sharon Dixon wasn't likely to throw her arms around him. She wasn't going to ride off with him on his motorcycle into the sunset. It sounded crazy. Low Light had his issues but he was far from crazy. In any other situation he would be calm and level headed. He had to be. Now he risked sneaking off base for four pieces of pie. He snorted.

That was when Dixon saw him. The kid was smiling like an idiot. He was still oblivious. They walked directly up to him.

"I _thought _that was your motorcycle, Low….." Dixon stopped. He corrected himself "Umm, Mr. MacBride." He said instead.

Low Light looked at him and blinked. He was called a lot of things but Mr. MacBride wasn't one of them. It made him feel old. Or a bus driver.

"Cooper." He had to clear his throat. His mouth was dry. "You can just call me Cooper, Dixon." He said.

Sharon Dixon laughed. When she sat down she touched his shoulder. He tensed. "I raised him to teach his olders and betters with respect. That's all. It's a habit." There was a pause. "Cooper." She said.

She pulled a plastic lined menu towards her. She had her head down. Her brown hair covered her eyes. She didn't notice the way he looked at her. She sat on his left side with Dixon on his right and Firewall next to her. Dixon was used to staying at his right. Low Light was left handed. He had to stay away from his trigger hand.

"Your first name is a last name." Sharon Dixon said. She didn't look up. "That's interesting."

Low Light shrugged. He cleared his throat again and took a sip of coffee. Around him Dixon and Firewall were talking about what to eat. Charlie came and filled their cups with coffee. Sharon Dixon took hers with two sugars that she shook in her hand before tearing open. Firewall added half a tin of cream to hers until it didn't resemble coffee. They were busy discussing breakfast by the time Low Light found his voice.

"Gary Cooper." He said. It came out at an awkward moment in the conversation. "My mom named me after Gary Cooper. Cooper Gary MacBride. Her favorite movie was A Farewell to Arms."

This time Sharon Dixon did look up. She smiled. "The story of the soldier that falls in love with a nurse in World War One. It's Ernest Hemingway."

He nodded. This time he didn't look away. She had beautiful eyes. "It's required reading in high school." She said. "That's" she stared at him "ironic." She waved her hand "considering what you do. Where is she now?"

He glanced down. "She died giving birth to me." He said.

Sharon Dixon softened. "Like in the book." She said.

They were interrupted when Firewall giggled. It gave away just how young she really was. It was nervous laughter. She leaned her face over past Dixon's mom. "You mean you could have been named Ernest?" She laughed. "Then we would be calling you Ernie!"

His scowl shut her up. She went back to her pseudo-coffee and menu. Dixon stared at him. Then he went back to the menu. "I didn't know that." He whispered. He was slowly finding out more and more about the night sniper. Low Light never talked about it. They never discussed personal matters.

It was quiet while everyone made up their minds. That was when Charlie came over. The waitress knew approximately how much time it would take for anyone to order. She did it for too many years. She had an ebb and flow that way. It was neither fast nor slow. It was consistent and efficient. She looked at each mug before giving refills. Then she took out her booklet. She rubbed her back and watched.

"So what would you like this morning?" She asked.

The three took their time ordering breakfast and coffee followed by pie. It was Low Light's fourth piece of pie. He would have a mouthful of cavities by the time he finished. Charlie glanced over at him and gave him a wink. He had been sitting there for close to two hours. She knew him well enough by now to know the reason why. He tried not to look at her. He didn't want to seem that obvious. When she set it in front of him he tried not to choke. Even if he had to force himself he ate every bite.

It was worth it. As she ate with her son Sharon Dixon talked and laughed. She was enjoying herself. The more she said the easier it was for Low Light to relax around her. The woman had a way of making him feel comfortable. She asked him open ended questions that he had no choice but to answer in anything less than a yes or no. He would have Hell to pay when he got back to base. He was off for five hours by the time they left.

Sharon Dixon, Firewall, and Trick Shot left to explore the canyon region. He wanted to show his mom the arches. Firewall came behind. They left in the maroon SUV while Low Light revved his motorcycle. She was driving. She gave a wave as she turned North and he turned South at the intersection. He had a smile on his face.

That ended as soon as he entered the gates. When he parked Flint was waiting for him. He pulled the key and put the kickstand down. The Warrant Officer was agitated.

"General Hawk wants to see you." He said.

Low Light knew exactly why.

End Chapter Three

Throw it to the Wind

Yes I ride a Harley. It's loud.


	4. Chapter 4

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Four

On the Shore a Dream

1130

General Hawk was pacing when Low Light entered the room. He stopped to collect himself before he sat down behind his desk. At his right side Psyche Out sat passively in the corner. They both regarded him as if they didn't want to meet his eyes. It made any explanation or reasoning obsolete. The General and the psychiatrist had their motives to distrust him. It was a dependency that went back years. They ran out of excuses.

Now Low Light had to tell them the truth.

Where his disobedience seemed justifiable it turned into an accusation. They had the means not to believe him. He lied too many times before. At each point he had to defend himself. Only now it was true. He stood stock still. HIs head pounded in a way it never did when he was drunk.

Hawk grit his teeth. He had Low Light's file on his desk.

Psyche Out tried to tell him once. The addiction was too strong. It was something Low Light was born with. He couldn't change it any more than he could change the color of his hair or his grey eyes. He could no longer control it as if he could control the incoming tide. General Hawk thought that by confining him to base would help. He was wrong. He was like a father to his Joes. He watched Cooper MacBride slide slowly but surely to self destruction. It had to stop.

He looked at the computer screen. "This time stamp was taken at 0457 this morning at the front gate." Hawk said. "It shows you leaving the base heading north towards the city of Thompson Utah along highway 191. That is in direct conflict with your orders stating you are confined to premises. I want you to explain yourself. Were you drinking MacBride?" He asked.

Low Light stopped. His throat tightened until he couldn't breathe. The only thing he could do was shake his head. He swallowed hard. It was difficult to look the General in the eye. If Hawk felt like a father to his Joes Low Light used him as a father figure. The man was the opposite of his own. He didn't want to disappoint him.

"No Sir." He said. His low voice was quieter than normal. It made them strain to hear it.

General Hawk leaned back. He studied him. His words were calculated. "Don't lie to me Cooper." He said. "I can have you arrested and order you to submit to a blood alcohol level. You disobeyed a direct order from your General."

He stopped and shook his head. He opened the file. He didn't want to have to. The weight of his decisions was his own to carry. "There are five hours between the time this time stamp was taken and the moment you arrived on base. That time is unaccounted for." The General said. He sighed. He leaned forward on his elbows. He stared at him. "Dammit Cooper you only had four months to go. Why would you risk it?" He asked. It was as if he was waiting for his sniper to clarify his actions.

General Hawk waved at him to continue.

Low Light hitched. He dropped his hands behind his back. He spread his stance from full attention to at ease. At his left arm his tattoos showed below the sleeve. He watched the wall behind Hawk as if it held the answer to the universe. He still couldn't look him in the eye. If he did the General would know.

"I left this morning." He said. "I admit and accept full responsibility. I went into Thompson where I had breakfast and" He stopped "pie."

Where once it seemed like a good idea as Low Light recounted his actions it sounded ridiculous. He didn't have an explanation. There was no excuse. He could understand why General Hawk and Psyche Out thought he lied. They watched him in only half belief.

"That was where I met Dixon and Firewall." Low Light said. He didn't mention Sharon Dixon. "We had coffee and breakfast. That was when I left. At no time was I drinking General Hawk."

The General leaned back in his chair. He paused. When he looked down at the file he made a note. "And Dixon and Firewall can verify your whereabouts?" Hawk asked.

Low Light nodded. "Yes Sir. I was with them the entire time." He said.

General Hawk dropped his pen on the desk and closed the file. He shook his head. "That must be good pie." He said.

He looked up. "You disobeyed a direct order Cooper. You were absent without leave. I've made my decision. Pack your belongings. You will be spending the next month in barracks. You are removed of your rank. Bring your rifle and any and all other weapons and ammunition to the armory. If you have any weapons on you hand them over. You're lucky I don't send you back to buck Private." He said.

Low Light winced as if he were physically hit. He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked. He could be jailed in Military Prison or at worse given a dishonorable discharge. He would lose his benefits and his status. Now he had to spend the next month as a greenshirt. When he opened his eyes General Hawk and Psyche Out were looking at him.

He swallowed and nodded. "I am unarmed Sir." He said.

"Good. You will report to the Quartermaster at 1300. You will also be required to weekly sessions with Psyche Out during that time. You will run drills with Beachhead at four AM. You are dismissed Private MacBride." General Hawk ordered.

Low Light stiffened and saluted.

When he turned to leave he heard General Hawk say "I hope it was worth it Cooper."

His room was turned over when he entered. His bed was stripped. On the wall where he kept his rifles were empty racks. His side of the closet was empty. The only belonging he had was his original Russian Dragunov. It was his best. It was the only thing he had of his father. He didn't want anything else. The man brought it back from Moscow. Cooper MacBride learned to shoot it at an early age. It was close to fifty years old. He kept it in working order. He held onto it as if it was his last possession.

Beachhead was pissed. Low Light had his back turned when he grabbed him by the shirt. He turned him around. Low Light had a fraction of time to grab his wrist. He slammed him into the wall. Behind his balaclava his eyes were hot. Throughout the years Beachhead was a constant. They weren't friendly but they were friends. He was the only one Low Light had.

"You son of a bitch what in the Hell were you thinking?" He yelled.

Low Light thought everyone could hear him. He had a way of yelling that commanded attention. Low Light rarely yelled. He slammed him against the wall again before Low Light had the chance to put his hand up. The drill sergeant was used to it. Low Light was used to being still. It came as a surprise.

Beachhead trained hand to hand combat. Outside of Snake Eyes and Scarlet he was the best. It was up close and personal. Low Light chose his targets from miles away. He never saw him drink. Low Light could pass days in a whiskey haze. Beachhead never went to Nebraska. He didn't masturbate. He was a monk. He would probably marry Cover Girl. Low Light spent his time whoring and drinking. That was his life. They were opposites.

Beachhead shoved him away. He let go and turned around. "I defended you. I thought you were over it." He said. Low Light had to fight his own monsters now. He went into the bathroom and took down the pill bottles. There was Effexor and Trazadone. There was Ativan and Amitriptyline. There was Welbutrin and Ambien. There was Lamictal and Celexa.

Low Light stood up and straightened the collar on his T-shirt. It was ripped. "I wasn't drinking Beach." He said. He held onto his Dragunov.

Beachhead grunted and handed him the bag of pills. "I can't let you take that Cooper." He said. He pointed at his Russian rifle. "But I will take care of it for you."

"Do you believe me?" Low Light asked. They stood eye to eye. He hated the way it sounded weak. He didn't want to give up his sniping rifle.

Beachhead nodded. "Yeah I believe you. But it's not my decision to make." He said. He said it with sincerity. He did believe him. "That's up to General Hawk."

Low Light handed Beachhead his rifle. "I'll save it for you for when you come back." He said. He was the second one to say "I hope it was worth it."

He couldn't say if it was. When he reported to the Quartermaster he changed clothes into olive drabs. They felt too tight. They were made for men twenty years younger. That was where he would be for the next month. The news spread around base. There were more rumors. When Low Light walked into the barracks three greenshirts turned around and left. He was a social pariah. He didn't fit into his normal rank and file and he didn't fit into the greenshirts. The normal Joes didn't look at him.

The rest of the afternoon Low Light stayed in the barracks. It was a square concrete bunker with two windows at each end. The beds were lined up along the walls. At each side there was a modular closet to keep clothes in. At the foot of the bed was a trunk. It had a communal shower and toilets. He was alone except for a small Jewish kid by the name of Ehrenstein. He didn't look up. He had his nose in a book. Low Light walked up to him once and then turned around. He didn't have anything to say. He left the kid alone.

It was twenty-two years ago when he was last at boot camp. That was during the first Persian Gulf War. He left Crosby North Dakota on a 1958 Harley Davidson he rebuilt from his father's junk yard. He didn't know about recruitment. He showed up on base where the Command Sergeant laughed at him. He didn't have anywhere else to go. He spent two months camping in the rain and grass next to his motorcycle before they admitted him. By then he would scrub the grounds with a potato if it meant he had a hot meal and a dry bed to sleep in.

His Commanders were impressed. They never met a kid with such good eyes.

Now he was back again.

When the dinner bell rang Ehrenstein looked up from his book. It was five PM. He followed behind Low Light like he was hiding. He still had his book. Low Light felt self conscious in his basics. The green T-Shirt showed his tattoos. The pants hung on his hips. His boots were new. They weren't broken in. But the worst thing was being without his goggles.

He swallowed whatever pride he had left and entered the mess hall. Towards the front the senior Joes were finishing up. They ate first. The rest of the grunts had left-over's. No one looked at him. He took his place in line and waited.

That was when he saw Dixon and Firewall walk in. Sharon Dixon was with them. She was dusty and her brown hiking boots were covered with red dirt. She was laughing again. She was the kind of woman that stood apart from the world. And when she looked back she laughed at it. Nothing bothered her although she had reasons for it to. They passed by without noticing him.

Low Light watched as Sharon Dixon walked towards General Hawk. She had a brown paper bag in her arms. It was past the time that the civilian mothers were allowed on base. She raised her hand and smiled.

It wasn't her smile that Low Light watched. It was General Hawk's. The way he looked up at her was more than fleeting. When he stood up and offered her a chair Low Light clenched. He was laughing at something she said. The General waved at Dixon and Firewall. They sat down.

It was then that Sharon Dixon opened the brown paper bag.

In it was a full cherry pie.

End Chapter Four

On the Shore a Dream

Ouch that was harsh. But Low Light went AWOL. What did you expect?


	5. Chapter 5

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Five

Through the caves of Hours

1730

Low Light watched Sharon Dixon, Trick Shot, and Firewall sit with General Hawk. He didn't move until he heard Ehrenstein clear his throat. He was distracted. Suddenly he wasn't hungry. But four AM was twelve hours away. He had to take what he could get. When he sat down the greenshirts avoided him. Ehrenstein looked at him briefly and walked the other way. He wound up sitting by himself. That was fine with him. He could eat in peace. He stretched his legs under the table and put his feet up on the opposite chair. It was a mistake. The cook he didn't recognize walked up. He was busy collecting trays. Low Light thought he was going to talk to him. He yanked the chair out beneath his feet instead. His ankles hit the floor hard enough to hurt.

"Sit straight Private." He growled. Low Light sighed. Even the cook out ranked him and he wasn't Roadblock. He took his tray before Low Light could finish. He only had time to save his coffee.

"Yes Sir." Low Light said. He thought about giving him the one finger salute. But he didn't want to press his luck. It wasn't going in his favor today. He would end up peeling a ton of potatoes. As soon as the cook was in the back he put his feet back up.

From here Low Light could see Sharon Dixon. She was having slices of cherry pie with the General. She nodded at something General Hawk said. They were engrossed in conversation. She had her mouth full. When she took the last bite she wrapped her tongue around the fork and held it there. She smiled. He felt his head swim. Sharon Dixon couldn't possibly know how seductive she looked. It was done too innocently. He could only imagine what General Hawk was thinking.

He felt a wave of jealousy hit him so hard he almost threw his coffee. The last thing he wanted was to be in the same room as her. He didn't want to see Sharon Dixon. He barely wanted to see Trick Shot. It was too much of a reminder. He was on punishment for the next month because of her. According to her she met him last night and this morning they had coffee. To her that was it. She didn't know that she was claimed. He was at once angry at himself. He finished the last of his coffee and stood up. He didn't want to look behind him when he left.

Low Light opened the door. Outside the temperature was dropping. The sun was going down. The grounds were covered in shadow. In the fall the sun would set early. Low Light had two hours that were his own. All of the greenshirts did. He went to the stairwell to the roof. He scanned his badge twice before he realized it didn't work. He didn't have access. He groaned and hit the door. They certainly were fast enough about it. He didn't have anywhere else to go. He couldn't watch TV. The greenshirts were playing video games. He couldn't go back to his room. He didn't have a room. Now he couldn't go to the roof. He didn't have access. He sat under a tree and put his elbows on his knees. He had thirty days of this left.

Sharon Dixon pushed her plate aside. She had to admit that Michael was right. The diner did have good pie. She was enjoying herself. It was good to see her son again. It was also good to meet his friends. Michelle was a nice girl. Her name was Firewall. She worked in the computer room at night. Sharon didn't know how Michael met her. She shrugged it off as base familiarity. She doubted it would go much further than a casual romance. General Hawk reminded her too much of the Captain. He was older than her and an officer. To her surprise he wasn't named after the bird. It was a shortened version of Tomahawk. He cut through and came down like an axe.

General Hawk was easy to talk to. Sharon didn't have difficulty talking to people as it was. It was her profession. She had a limited amount of time to find out the maximum amount of information. Over the years it developed into a habit. She had that way about her. Out of uniform and off duty people in the grocery line talked to her. They would confess their most private secrets to her. Michael used to laugh about it. He told her the Army didn't need to interrogate prisoners of War. All they had to do was send Sharon Dixon in and they would confess. It would take two minutes. That's where she found herself now.

She sat next to General Hawk. Michael and Michelle sat across from them. To anyone else they looked like mother and father with their two children. The General was busy talking.

"It can be difficult at times." He said. "These are Joes. They were chosen. They're the best of the best. They're not used to having their motives questioned." He pushed his plate away as well. They were finished eating. The unknown cook came by and collected them. They were the last ones there. "Sometimes they have to be punished."

General Hawk stopped and looked at Trick Shot. He made a point of meeting his eyes. "Unfortunately it does happen. That's what I had to do with Low Light this morning." He said.

Sharon Dixon had asked him what was hard about leading GI Joe. In return the General talked for fifteen minutes. Sharon kept constant eye contact. She finally broke it at the end when she looked at her son.

"Isn't Low Light your instructor?" She asked him.

Her son nodded.

Trick Shot was just as surprised as she was. They were hiking in the arches and canyons most of the day. They hadn't heard the news. He didn't know what happened. They left this morning after breakfast where Trick Shot showed her the trail. Sharon Dixon liked to hike and camp. In Missouri the Ozarks had thousands of miles of trails. She spent a lot of time taking Michael. It was close and it was a good way for them to be together. There wasn't the distraction of TV or the quietness of a movie. They could talk for hours. Most of the parks were free or charged a minimal fee. As a single mother it was one of the few things she could afford. She hoped to pass her love of nature to her son. It worked.

Throughout dessert Michael and Michelle were quiet. It was out partly of a healthy respect for Hawk but also they didn't want to interrupt Sharon Dixon and the General. This time it was Michael that spoke up. He gaped at him.

"What? What happened?" He said. He quickly added "Sir."

He had to purposefully close his mouth. He couldn't imagine Low Light doing anything that would require punishment. He thought at first it was extra PT or cleaning duty. It had to be something simple. When he heard the extent of the punishment he turned and looked at Firewall. They were both shocked. Even Sharon looked skeptical.

"I can't imagine what happened that you would send him back to Private General Hawk." Sharon said. "That seems a bit harsh."

The General lifted his hand. "Low Light has a history. He disobeyed orders. It was set as an example. He was AWOL this morning. It's only for thirty days." He had a way of dismissing their questions that way.

Trick Shot looked down. "General Hawk we had breakfast with him this morning, Sir." He whispered.

The General nodded. "Yes I know. Low Light told me." He said. He saw Trick Shot nod.

But Sharon Dixon fixed on him. She turned to her son. "Excuse me Michael." She said. "General Hawk this wouldn't have anything to do with the pregnant waitress this morning. He left a hundred dollar tip for a piece of pie and a cup of coffee. He seemed to" She stopped to make her intention clear "know her." She added.

The way they were familiar was more than just as a regular customer and a waitress. Sharon Dixon could tell. "I was going to thank him." She said. When Sharon was pregnant with Michael and working as a waitress she would have dreamed of a hundred dollar tip. It never happened.

General Hawk stopped and looked at her. She held his gaze on purpose. It was information Low Light left out. Low Light indicated he went into Thompson for breakfast. He didn't know about the pregnant waitress. There were rumors about what Low Light did with his down time. General Hawk ignored it. What the Joes did on their time was their business. On base they belonged to him. This time the rumor may be true. If that was the case then he could understand why Low Light would risk it. He had to think about it.

He pushed himself away from the table. Sharon Dixon, Trick Shot, and Firewall stood up. "It still doesn't excuse his actions." General Hawk said.

"Yes but you can understand why he did." Sharon said.

"His reasons are beside the point. He disobeyed a direct order." Hawk said. He started walking towards the door. Sharon followed close on his heels. Behind her Trick Shot and Firewall listened from behind.

Sharon Dixon snorted. "She's pregnant. What would you do?" She argued. She had to half-walk half-run to keep up with him. Behind her the mess hall door slammed shut.

"The personal lives of my Joes aren't your concern." Hawk said. He turned away from her. It was close to Last Post. The senior soldiers and the greenshirts were making their way to the grounds. They watched with curiosity. They didn't hear the argument.

General Hawk had to deal with his share of Joes and their pregnant girlfriends before. Stalker and Lydia was the success story. Even Snake Eyes and Scarlet had their scare a few years ago. Low Light was no different.

"You can't possibly believe that. There are some things that are more important than rules." Sharon said. She knew enough in her own life that sometimes things weren't as simple. The rules weren't broken as much as they were bent.

"You should know that." She said.

General Hawk stopped so suddenly she had to back up. "You're not a General Sharon!" He said. He had to wonder when she stopped being Mrs. Dixon and started being Sharon. "It's _my _decision to make."

It came out louder than he wanted. The greenshirts and the senior Joes turned to stare at them. The regulars had the decency to look away and continue. But the greenshirts watched closely. They had never heard the General shout. He took off his helmet. It was the one with four stars. By that time Last Post was being played. He stood still with the rest of his Joes. It was a moment to pay respect to their country and to their post before lights out. This time he was seething inside. Next to him Sharon Dixon had her jaw set.

General Hawk wasn't used to having his decisions argued. Neither did Sharon Dixon. She knew the reason why she defended her sons' instructor. She wished too many times over the years that she had someone that would risk the rules to be with her. Instead she was left alone to raise Michael. The Captain went back to Germany. She didn't even know he was married. She had to learn the hard way. The night sniper jeopardized his entire career in a way the Captain never did. He was only an Enlisted but he had more honor than any of the officers Sharon met. To her Low Light went AWOL to see the pregnant waitress. She couldn't know the truth. Low Light went AWOL to see _her. _He did risk the rules to be with her.

By the time Last Post was finished the American Flag was lit in a spotlight. The greenshirts left for the barracks. They would have to be awake early in the morning. The senior Joes hung around and talked. Low Light was caught in the middle. It was too early for him. He didn't want to go to barracks. It wasn't because he was avoiding it. He knew if he fell asleep there was no accounting for what he would do. Then the greenshirts would know. He watched Sharon Dixon and General Hawk. From his place in the shadows he couldn't hear what they were saying. They appeared to be arguing.

General Hawk turned to Trick Shot and spoke to him for a long while. Then he turned around and looked at Sharon Dixon. He put his helmet back on and led her back to her rental SUV. He had his hand on the small of her back as if he were guiding her. At the door he talked to her. She had the drivers' side window down. The General leaned through with his forearms on the door. It looked like they were discussing something. Sharon Dixon nodded. This time she didn't smile. She waved to Trick Shot and left. She kicked up dust as she pulled out as fast as she could.

Dixon found him. Low Light expected him to. He trained him to seek the shadows. When he walked up with Firewall he stood up. The kid out ranked him now. They would share barracks. The kid looked embarrassed.

"Low Light General Hawk wants you to follow me." He said. He felt bad for his instructor.

Low Light grimaced. He was a Private now. Dixon was an E-3. He could order him around as much as he wanted. He didn't think Dixon would. At his arm was the Knight sniping rifle. Low Light looked at it. He didn't have as much as a nine millimeter. He never thought he would miss it so much.

"Yes Private Dixon." He said.

Beside him Firewall was quiet. The two felt bad for him. It seemed like a cruel punishment. Low Light was the best there was. Now he had to take orders from them. They walked to the middle of the grounds. Under the spotlight General Hawk was waiting.

"MacBride." He commanded.

Low Light stopped. He stood at attention and saluted.

"You're with Dixon. Where he goes you go. What he says is the word of God. You will do as he says. I don't want to see you without your sniper at your side at any time." Hawk said. It sounded familiar.

The General paused. He flicked his eyes back to the Pit. That was where the Joes were. "You are no longer confined to base." He said. Low Light would have to be if he was going to see the pregnant waitress.

Low Light looked at him. His grey eyes watched and waited for any kind of expression. There was none. "Excuse me Sir?" He said.

The General faced him. "You heard me MacBride. I said you are no longer confined to base. You are dismissed. Leave before I change my mind." He said. He left with nothing more.

Low Light watched him walk to the Pit until he couldn't see him anymore. He couldn't know that Sharon Dixon saved him. He stood next to Dixon. The kid coughed and looked down. He held something out to him.

"My mom told me to give this to you. She says thank you." Dixon said. "She saw what you did this morning."

Low Light lifted the paper towel. On a plate was the last piece of cherry pie.

End Chapter Five

Through the caves of hours

So Sharon Dixon and General Hawk think Low Light is the father. That's where rumors will take him.


	6. Chapter 6

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Six

Learn How to Pretend

2100

It was well past Last Post. The sun set and the grounds were black. The Joes and greenshirts were gone. It was just the three of them. Above them the fall sky was clear. The stars were shining. The Private stood apart under the light of the American Flag. It made a halo around his blond curls. In his hand was a small circular plate. He was looking at it. His back was straight and his head was up. He was taller than the other two. He was also older. It wasn't his posture or age that gave away authority. It was the way he held himself. The other two were looking at him. They were younger and out ranked him. No one could tell.

Trick Shot had his head down. He didn't look at Low Light. He looked in the shadows and around the grounds instead. He watched everywhere else but he couldn't meet the night snipers eyes. He heard everything his mother and General Hawk had to say. He dropped his hands and touched his sniping rifle. It gave them something to do. He watched Low Light finish the piece of pie his mother gave him. Other than that the grounds were silent. He didn't want to be the one that spoke first. Low Light was a very quiet man. Apart from instruction Trick Shot didn't know that much about him. He hardly talked. When he did talk he never mentioned anything personal. Trick Shot only waved goodbye when Firewall left for the control room. She patted his shoulder awkwardly and turned around. After this time it would normally be a small stolen kiss. He watched her leave.

Trick Shot was alone with Low Light. He turned back to him.

"I was going to the roof for a little while. Do you want to come with me?" Trick Shot asked. "I think Janack is there. She won't mind."

Dana Janack was the female night sniper. She worked nights the same as Trick Shot and Low Light. It kept her skills up to date. She was a bit small for a Russian woman at five foot six but her night vision set her apart. Unlike Low Light and Trick Shot Janack never wore night vision goggles. She relied on her scope to extend her sites. She had short blond hair she pulled over her ears and a flat chest. Her standard issue cargo pants fit close. The woman had no hips to speak of. She was asexual in the way a woman had to be in a man's profession. She was also gay.

"Yes Private Dixon." He said. He threw the paper plate away.

"You don't have to call me Private Dixon Low Light. The trees don't care what rank I am. Just call me Trick Shot." Dixon said back. He smiled. The roles were reversed now but that didn't mean he didn't remember. They looked amused by it. Low Light gave a half grin. His teeth were stained red and his crooked bottom teeth showed. He knew as well as Dixon how he earned the code name.

"Yes Trick Shot." Low Light said. He gave his low laugh and followed Trick Shot to the roof.

At the hotel Sharon Dixon sat in the lobby bar. She had a long day. It was too early for sleep. She watched the TV on closed captioned and drank a glass of red wine. Behind her the mothers and fathers with her for family week were having dinner. They paired up in groups. They sat close with three tables pushed together. There was laughter and drinks as they talked. It was nothing new for Sharon. She was used to it. As a single mother there were a lot of things she had to do on her own over the years. She ordered another glass of wine. It would be her last before she went to her room. She nibbled on salted pretzels shaped like a bird.

She saw General Hawk walk in from the mirror behind the bar. He stopped at the couples' table as they stood. The man was the consummate politician. He shook hands with the fathers and laughed at the women's jokes. He was dressed casually in beige corduroys with a white dress shirt and an olive neck tie. He had on an expensive leather bomber jacket trimmed in sheep wool. At his collar were four stars. He was never off duty or out of rank. She was surprised when he declined when the men offered him a seat. He walked up to the bar and sat next to her instead.

The bartender came over in a way that he never did with Sharon. She ignored it. The General ordered an import beer and turned towards her. She took a sip of wine but otherwise didn't say a word. She was still mad from this evening. She waited.

"I was hoping you would be here. I wanted to apologize for my actions this evening Sharon." General Hawk said. "I behaved in a way I wouldn't allow my Joes. It was uncalled for."

"I understand General Hawk." Sharon said. "I shouldn't have argued with you in front of your soldiers. It was inappropriate. It was your decision to make. It's none of my business to say what you should or shouldn't do. I only hope that it doesn't have an effect on my son. It was just the ramblings of a woman and a mother." She said.

She waved her hand. It seemed like such a foolish thing to do now. She knew enough about the military to know that emotions were kept out of decisions. That was equally true for General Hawk. They were Joes. They were soldiers first. They knew the rules and they knew the consequences of their actions. That meant for Low Light and Michael.

General Hawk shook his head. "I can assure you Sharon that whatever rank your son obtained is by his own ability. He's the best night sniper I've had in a long time. Michael can shoot a target at two miles. He has the best eyes on my team. There's only one other that I've seen do that." He said.

"That's his instructor." Sharon said. She grimaced. Low Light was like a bad penny. In all of her conversations Cooper MacBride seemed to show up. She tried to defend him. She had her reasons even if General Hawk couldn't see them. She sighed. "Thank you General Hawk." She said. "It means a lot to me."

She relaxed and looked at him through the bar mirror. She couldn't deny that the General was an attractive man. But he was also Michael's Commanding Officer. Sharon knew enough about Officers to avoid them. She was guarded. If the General was here to apologize then she would accept it.

The bartender came over. General Hawk tapped his fingers on the bar twice. It was the universal signal to keep a tab running. That intended he wasn't planning on going anywhere. He lifted his mug. It was frosted and chilled. When he drank the sweat ran down the side. He set it aside.

"Clayton." General Hawk said. "My name is Clayton Abernathy. Clay. Unless you're a soldier you don't have to call me General Hawk. You're not a soldier are you Sharon?" He smiled.

Sharon laughed. It came out in a sudden bark like it always did. Behind her the couples looked up. All they could see was General Hawk smiling with a beer in his hand and Sharon Dixon with her head to the ceiling laughing. There were knowing looks from the men and pursed lips from the mothers. It was time for their bedtime. They left with their husbands hurrying them along.

"No not at all" Sharon said "Clay."

General Hawk smiled.

"I'm just an over protective tiger mom." Sharon said. She turned the bar stool around until they were face to face and almost knee to knee. She hid behind her glass of wine.

Sharon Dixon had always been an attractive woman. When she laughed her smile took up her entire face. She still had a sense of humor about life. She had the beginnings of crow's feet at her eyes that betrayed her difficulties. She had a long neck that showed thin amounts of her clavicle. She wasn't large in the chest but probably a B or C cup. Her waist was narrow. She would never fit into a size six anymore but she filled a size ten comfortably. Her hips stuck out beneath her jeans. She had long legs that ended at thin ankles. She had slender fingers that touched Clayton Abernathy's wrist when she smiled. Her hands were warm and her nails were long and trim. It was close to ten PM.

She shared drinks with Clayton Abernathy until midnight. She had two more glasses of wine while General Hawk ordered three more imported beers. They ate appetizers while they talked. It was the standard bar food. It was micro waved nachos and cheese and frozen shrimp cocktail until they were full. The kitchen was closed. At the end the bartender came over with the bill. The General paid before Sharon Dixon had the chance to protest. She blew a breath and put her wallet away. The wine was going to her head. She wasn't drunk but she was pleasantly relaxed. She hadn't felt that way in a long time. She had to pause as she grabbed her purse.

Sharon Dixon wasn't a naïve twenty year old anymore. This time when General Hawk stood up she knew the reason why. When he offered to walk her back to her room she agreed. They didn't touch when she pushed the button for her floor. She inserted the room card the hotel gave her. The door opened. She turned around. Behind her Clayton Abernathy had his back half in and half out in the hall way. He stood with his hand against the door jamb,

"Stay." She whispered. She went past him and closed the door. She heard it close with a click.

Sharon had to look up when he kissed her. He was taller than her. It was a soft kiss given in an exploring way that left Sharon light headed. She reached up to his collar and held him there. His hair was clipped short but not shaved. It was enough for her to hold onto. She ran her fingers through it and pulled herself closer. When she grabbed the zipper from his bomber jacket he shrugged it off. He broke away only to fold it on the back of a chair. Sharon had to tug at the lapels of his dress shirt and loosen the knot in his tie before she pressed herself to his chest. He unbuttoned the cuffs for her to make it easier to undress him. He still had his corduroys on. Sharon could feel the swell in his pants between her legs. She reached down and touched him. She heard him moan. At his chest his skin was scarred with what looked like bullet and knife wounds. When she kissed them he stiffened in her hand.

Sharon Dixon let herself go weak in a way she never allowed before. She felt Clay lift her like a man would. It was assured and confident. She put her arms up until her clothing lay discarded on the hotel room floor. She stood before him in nothing but a white laced bra and dusty jeans. To Clayton Abernathy she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He kissed her again as he pushed against her. Sharon walked backwards until she felt her knees hit the edge of the bed. She knew what he was going to do and she wanted it.

He lay on top of her with his hands beneath her back and shifted her until they were at the top of the bed. He bent his leg until he felt her thighs loosen when she spread them. He unhooked her and threw her bra away. She lay beneath him as she saw him look at her. She gasped when his mouth found her throat and started kissing her lower and lower. She unbuttoned his pants and unzipped him. He leaned up until he was on his knees. That was when he pulled his pants off and put his thumbs in his boxers. He took them off until he sat naked before her.

"Sharon." He whispered. He gave her a kiss as he stood up. "Let me. I have protection." He said. It was expected.

Sharon laughed. She lay before him in jeans and arched her back. Her breasts showed and her nipples were hard and brown. On her stomach was the thin line of a C-Section scar. "That's taken care of Clay. It was yanked out twenty two years ago with Michael. You don't have to worry." She said.

When Sharon was in labor with Michael the baby wouldn't descend. She contracted for twelve hours before his heart rate dropped. Her OB/GYN rushed into the room with consent papers before she knew what was happening. Michael was born at ten pounds and almost eleven ounces. He was just too big for her pelvis. He cried when they pulled him out of her. Then Sharon started to hemorrhage. The doctor only had a few minutes before he told her that she would never give birth again. They had to do an emergency hysterectomy.

She still remembered.

Sharon shuddered when Clayton Abernathy pulled her jeans off. It was twenty two years ago the last time she made love. She turned her head and dug her chin into his shoulder. And when the General entered her she held tight to the back of his neck and cried out. He filled her in a way that made her widen. He breathed at her throat until his left arm reached under her neck and his right arm held onto her hips. Sharon kissed him as if they were molded together. Her hands gripped his shoulders until she scratched her nails down his back. His head sweat when she kissed his neck, his shoulder, and his chest. He quickened and she held onto his hips as he thrust harder and faster.

When it happened he groaned in her mouth.

Sharon lay in his arms until she felt him leave her. He was soft when he lifted his hips. He kissed her as he turned on his back. It was a long time since she felt this way. It was a sense of being safe and secure that she always wanted. Her eyes closed in a half lid with self satisfaction. She smiled. Next to her Clay had his arm wrapped around her. He didn't leave the way the Captain did. She leaned her head on his chest and sighed. Next to him she could feel his heartbeat in her ear. He rubbed her arm in slow gentle strokes and held her hand. His fingers entwined with hers. He kissed her knuckles before he went to sleep.

He didn't leave.

End Chapter Six

Learn How to Pretend

Yeah I'm an asshole. Capsarchic is gonna hate this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Seven

All's forgotten now

0500

Sharon Dixon let Clayton Abernathy enter her again. She was half awake and half asleep. She had her back turned with the General holding her to his chest. She lifted her leg and put her arm around to feel his face. He was slow and gentle this morning. He made love to her with familiarity. His head rest on her shoulder as he kissed her neck. They held hands in a grip at her waist. When he came he grabbed her chin and kissed her mouth. She felt him shake and breathe on her shoulder. His morning beard scratched her skin. When she rolled over he moved over on his side until they could see each other. He yawned.

"You're up early." Sharon teased. She moved her arms until she could feel him with her hand. His abdomen flexed. He swatted her hand away. She smiled. She had her head on his shoulder. His body was warm on her skin. His arms held her close. She put her thigh on his hip. "Any reason why?" She asked.

"I'm just used to being awake by now." The General said.

He yawned again. He rubbed her back. He had his eyes closed. He didn't want to move. He was too content. He looked over at the bedside clock. It was almost six AM. The Joes were already up. Beachhead would be running drills by now. The recruits would either sink or swim. Clayton Abernathy wasn't worried about it. As the General to the Joe team he trusted his chain of command. He wouldn't need to be at base until nine AM. He had another three hours to spend with Sharon Dixon. He made the most of it.

When they were finished again Sharon laughed. She lay under him with her hands behind his neck. He was wet with sweat. She played with the hairs making curlicues with her fingers. Clayton pushed himself on his forearms to look down at her. When she smiled up at him he smiled too. He dipped his head and kissed her.

"A woman laughing isn't what a man wants to hear after making love, Sharon." He said.

It made her laugh more. Sharon was even more beautiful when she laughed. "I'm laughing because I'm happy." She said.

Clayton Abernathy rolled off of her and stood up. His back was broad and muscled for a man in his fifties. He exercised regularly to keep in shape. He couldn't expect his soldiers to be fit if he didn't lead by example. Sharon turned on her side to enjoy the view. Her knees shook when she closed her legs. She put her hands between them to stop. She was pleasantly sore. When Clayton turned around she was leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand and her head tilted. The sheet dropped to her waist. He also had a view of her. She looked like a woman that had been thoroughly and completely fucked. He smirked at himself and went into the bathroom.

Sharon heard the shower start but stayed in bed. Shower sex was for the young with better balance. She didn't know if she could tolerate another encore. She sighed and started picking up clothes. Some she had to search for. Such as how her shoes ended up across the room. She turned on the TV. The two camera ready military experts were in a heated argument about Defense cuts. Sharon used it for background noise. She put her nightgown on.

In the bathroom she heard Clayton. "Call down and see if they can send a razor and shaving cream." He said.

Sharon stared at the door. That was Clayton. To the General everything was an order. There was not the standard polite 'could you please' or 'Sharon can you call'. It was 'call down' as if she were a soldier following orders. Sharon hated being told what to do. If he were Michael she would ask him what the magic word was. She sighed. She went to the phone. It was such a stupid thing to be irritated by. She brushed it off. By the time she hung up the phone Clayton was drying his hair and had a towel wrapped around his hips. He crossed the room and turned off the TV.

"I was watching that." Sharon said.

"I have to listen to that crap all day every day. I don't want to hear it now." Clayton said. He dried his hair and threw the towel on the bathroom floor. It made Sharon stew inside. When he came back out he had his corduroys on.

She met his eyes. There was a fire in them that made him stop. "What?" He said.

She pointed behind him to the bathroom. "Aren't you going to pick that up?" She asked.

"Pick what up? You mean the towel? That's what they have room service for." There was a knock on the door. Sharon grit her teeth. She picked up the towel. By then Clayton took the razor and shaving cream.

Sharon threw the towel at the hotel employee. He backed up in surprise. He barely caught it. "We need more towels." She said. She closed the door hard. In the hallway she heard the employee say "Yes Ma'am."

Clayton stared at her. "What the hell was that all about?" He said.

"Isn't that what we have room service for?" Sharon said. "To be good little soldiers and do as they're told? Not everyone is a soldier Clay." She said. She walked past him to the bathroom and closed the door.

It didn't stop him. He opened the door and stood against the frame. Sharon turned around. There was still a flash in her eyes. "Do you mind? I'm trying to take a shower." She said. She held her pajamas up against her like a shield.

Clayton snorted. "Not until you tell me what's going. And good grief Sharon I just saw you naked not more than half an hour ago. Something has you in a tizzy." He said. It didn't take his secondary specialty in Intelligence to know. Sharon Dixon spoke her mind. He flicked his eyes at her pajamas. "Now what are you so upset about?" He put his hands in his pockets. He leaned on the wall.

That was his final decision. Sharon knew he wouldn't leave unless she told him. She sighed and dropped her pajamas. She turned around to start the shower. She put her fingers through her hair. "I'm just tired Clay." She said. "Someone kept me awake last night." She walked up to him and put her hands behind his head. She kissed him. "That's all."

Clayton Abernathy kissed her back. "Good. I wanted to go out to breakfast before I have to be on base. I've heard of this place that has the best pie." He grinned. Sharon stepped naked into the shower.

The diner was a twenty minute drive from the hotel. They talked as he drove. It was new scenery for Sharon. Missouri was three fourths Mark Twain National Forest. The desert fascinated her. It seemed as if the sky was as big as the world. Clayton shifted and down shifted along the winding road. The closer they came to Thompson the more military vehicles they saw. Some allowed General Hawk the right of way. He passed salutes at stop signs. Everyone seemed to know him. Thompson had one downtown area. It was split into four traffic lights. At the opposite end past the bars was the Do or Dine. Most of the locals and the military ate there. It was best known for its pies and breakfast. At this time of the morning there were several eighteen wheelers and work trucks on the side. It was the busiest time of day. Parked in the front was a black Harley Davidson sitting between two Army jeeps. Sharon recognized her sons' car and squeezed Clay's hand.

He looked over. "Are you alright?" He asked.

Sharon nodded. "Yes Clay I'm not ashamed of what we did." She said. He kissed her finger tips. He held the door open. She took a deep breath when she entered.

When they walked in Cooper MacBride was talking with Charlie the waitress. Michael Dixon sat on his right side. He smiled wide when he saw his mother. Cooper was obeying his orders. He didn't leave the snipers' side at any time. It was Dixon's down time. They decided to have breakfast in town. Janack didn't want to go with them. Cooper was only glad to be off base. It felt good.

There was a very large and very muscular man on Coopers left. His arms were like hams. On them were various tattoos covering the top of his shoulder to his wrist. It was a Japanese tattoo known as the horimono. Contrary to amateur tattoos they enhanced his skin instead of marring it. It was body art. He had his hair cut military style with a long thick black beard that hung to his chest. He was watching Charlie. They were talking.

General Hawk walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. The man turned his head. "You don't salute your General Bernice?" He said. It came out as an order.

The big man stood up and smiled. He had deep dimples beneath his beard. His teeth were straight. He had green eyes that sparked with humor. He gave a half salute that ended in a sharp edge on his thigh. He laughed and shook hands with General Hawk

"It's good to see you Bernice." General Hawk said.

Next to them Sharon heard Michael. "Bernice?" He said. He blinked.

The big man faced Michael in a glare. He narrowed his eyes. The smile disappeared into a hard look. "You got a problem with my name boy?" He growled. "Because it looks like you got a problem." He said.

Michael shook his head furiously. "No Sir." He said. The man wasn't even military. Nor was he an Officer.

Butch laughed and winked at Charlie. She punched at his arm playfully. In her other arm was a pot of coffee. She poured two. One was for General Hawk and the other one was for Sharon Dixon. Cooper MacBride looked over.

"You scare little kids for Halloween don't you Butch?" He grinned.

Butch shook his head. "Fuck the candy. It's the best part of the holiday Coop." He laughed.

He stood up and pulled out a twenty. Charlie came out from behind the counter. She was small but next to Butch she was tiny. Her belly protruded like a tumor. She looked like she was giving birth to a watermelon.

"That's all going to end once the baby is born Butch." She said.

The man frowned down at her and put his hands on her abdomen. His disappointed was feigned. Anyone could tell the man was thrilled. Butch enjoyed everything about his wife's pregnancy. He looked tough but he would be an easy father. He leaned down and kissed her.

"I'll pick you up at two." He said. He patted her stomach "And you too little one. Bye-bye baby."

Charlie laughed.

General Hawk and Sharon Dixon sat down next to them. General Hawk was laughing. Sharon waved at her son. She sat next to Hawk. They bent their heads together and shared a menu. It was more intimate than what friends would do. They relaxed.

It didn't go unnoticed to grey eyes.

Cooper MacBride took a sip of coffee. He looked up. He couldn't say that seeing Sharon Dixon with General Hawk came as a surprise. Cooper knew enough to know that when the big dogs came sniffing around he backed off. It was written on them. Next to him Michael was clueless. He was smiling. Cooper clenched his teeth. The only outward sign was white knuckles around his coffee cup. He didn't blame Sharon. He was a low ranked Private. He was lower than her son. General Hawk commanded the most elite soldiers in the world. He came from West Point. Cooper MacBride came from a junkyard in North Dakota. It couldn't have happened if it were predicted.

He calmed himself but did not meet their eyes. He was angry. Sharon had nothing to do with it. Cooper MacBride made self loathing into a subspecialty. He hurt himself before anyone else could. Most alcoholics did. It was behavior that went back decades.

He looked back up. Sharon Dixon was staring at him. Cooper MacBride knew she was more than just a casual encounter. Sharon Dixon deserved more than that. It was all Cooper could give. He knew the General was an honorable man. When he lay with her she would be safe. The opposite was true with Cooper. He could never guarantee what he would do when he was asleep. He wanted to leave and spend the rest of the day in a foggy blur. When he set his cup down the two of them were looking at him.

General Hawk coughed. The color was out of his cheeks. Cooper never thought of General Hawk as the kind of man that would be easily embarrassed. Then again he never thought General Hawk was the kind of man to sleep with Sharon Dixon. He didn't think about the General's sex life. They were finished with the menu. There was an uncomfortable silence. Michael Dixon ate pie as if nothing was going on.

In the end it was Sharon that spoke up. "That doesn't bother you?" She asked. She flicked her hands at Charlie.

Cooper followed her hands to where Charlie was talking with a group of truckers. "Charlie's been doing it a long time. She can handle truckers. They're regulars of hers." He said. He went back to his coffee. He was still waiting on breakfast. He had to be back with Michael in an hour.

"And" Sharon paused "You're a regular of hers too?" She asked. "Isn't that hard?"

"No I've been coming for years."

"But I saw you give her a hundred dollar tip." Sharon whispered. She had her face down. She didn't look at him. "I can't believe this." She murmured

Cooper leaned over. He didn't want to look her in the face. "Charlie earned it. She worked hard for it. If anyone deserves it Charlie does." He said.

"But what do you think about Butch?" Sharon asked.

"Oh Butch doesn't care. I try to help them out when I can. It's the least I can do. Charlie likes it. She could use it." He said.

General Hawk had coffee go down the wrong pipe so hard that it blew a spray of black on the counter. Sharon inhaled and pulled a wad of napkins from the dispenser so fast that she pat him on the back. By then Charlie was over with her own group of napkins.

"General Hawk? General Hawk? Are you OK?" Charlie said.

End Chapter Seven

All's forgotten now

A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and a sense of humor.


	8. Chapter 8

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Eight

Once a Story's Told

0920

All of them were late. Clayton Abernathy and Sharon Dixon had their reasons. Cooper MacBride and Michael Dixon were on down time. It was family week. Sharon could be with her son as long as she wanted. The General didn't have to be back until later. The three stared at Low Light in disbelief. There were always rumors about the night sniper. They ran from the truth to the absurd. The constant was the same. Low Light went off base for whiskey and women. It was illegal. It was against the Joe's code of conduct. The Joe's lived up to a high standard. Most looked the other way. For Low Light it wasn't a stretch of the imagination. It was likely he slept with Charlie the waitress. That much was true. It was nine months ago. She showed.

Sharon Dixon handed Charlie her wad of paper towels. The General was finished coughing. She was the one that turned to Charlie. She asked what all of them wanted.

"Charlie?" She said. The waitresses looked up from throwing the paper towels away. "How far along are you?" She asked.

Charlie smiled and rubbed her stomach. "Ugh can you believe I'm only six months. I have another three months to go. This one is going to take after his father. They're already planning my C-Section." She said. "I feel bad for Butch. I'm glad he has good benefits. I don't know what I would do if we didn't."

"It's a boy?" Sharon asked.

Charlie nodded. "I wanted a girl. Butch wanted a boy. He's the one that shot one past the goalie. I guess he won out." She laughed. "Are you ready to order?" She asked.

General Hawk wiped his chin. He did the calculation in his head. It was eight months since Low Light was arrested. There was no way he could be the father to Charlie's baby. It came as a relief. He handed Charlie the menu. His night snipers were busy eating pie and drinking coffee. Sharon sat back. She looked over at the General. There was a dawning look of understanding. Michael and Cooper were finished.

"Yes we'll have scrambled eggs with sausage and bacon with a side of toast." General Hawk said. "We'll both have the cherry pie."

Sharon Dixon looked over. Again there was the flash in her eyes. She held her hand up to Charlie. "No, I don't like sausage. I'll have the pancakes instead." She said. She flicked the sugar packets with her hand. She didn't have to do it long. She did anyway. She ripped them open and poured it into her coffee.

Michael Dixon stood up. He walked over to his mother. He stopped at her side. Whatever irritation his mother had with General Hawk was gone. He touched her shoulder. He looked like he wanted to say something. He kissed her cheek and paid his bill. Sharon Dixon kissed him back. He was her son.

"Bye mom." Michael Dixon said. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turned around. He saluted to General Hawk. Cooper MacBride followed. He handed Charlie the money for his breakfast plus an extra twenty.

Clayton Abernathy looked over his shoulder. "You're on leave Dixon. I'll take your mother back." He said.

"Thank you General Hawk." Dixon said. He left for his jeep. There was a quick conversation. Low Light started his motorcycle. He followed Dixon to the highway.

Michael Dixon drove through town until he came to a free standing liquor store. Cooper MacBride knew it well. He slowed and pulled in with a crunch of his tires on gravel. Dixon stopped. He parked against the entrance. Low Light turned his motorcycle off while he went inside. When he came back out he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He opened the trunk and put it inside. When they left for the highway Dixon set speeds of seventy to eighty miles per hour. Cooper had an idea why. He shifted into sixth gear and kept up. His Harley hugged the curves. At twenty miles in Dixon pulled over onto an obscure dirt road. Low Light stopped beside him. It was almost noon.

They were at an unmarked trail head. It was the one Low Light showed him. Michael sat in the jeep. He turned it off and opened the door. From the back he took the bottle of Jack Daniels and unlocked his sniping rifle. It was sitting in the back seat with a key lock. He put the key in his pocket. The sniping scope he pulled out of a duffel bag. He handed it to Low Light. He reached for the Knight Armament sniping rifle he was used to. He walked to the desert.

Dixon stood with his back to Low Light. He looked at the dirt and rock. No one was around. "I'll set up for three miles." He said. "The winner takes a shot." He said. He indicated the Jack Daniels.

Low Light looked but stayed quiet. Dixon didn't know what a temptation it was.

Dixon broke the seal of the bottle and walked towards his position. Low Light followed. Whatever the kid was planning he dropped to his belly and focused. Low Light adjusted the scope. When he had the target in place he gave the order. Dixon pulled the trigger. At the distance the rock and dirt exploded.

"That's a hit." Low Light said. He sat back. "It's two and a quarter miles."

Dixon lay down. He took a drink. He put the bottle to the side.. "I said three miles." He said. He was already marking his target.

Low Light stopped. He took the time to glance at him. The kid looked mad about something. Low Light didn't ask. He knew why. He left it alone. Michael Dixon didn't need him fucking around with whatever he was pissed off about his mother.

"It's three miles then." Low Light said. The Knight Armament sniping rifle could make the distance. In its cross hairs Low Light could see the mark Dixon used. He lay down. His goggles reversed the distance. He pulled five degrees to the left. He missed on purpose.

"Shit." He said.

Dixon cussed. The shot was negligible. Dixon was too upset to notice. His mind was miles away. He didn't notice the pull.

Low Light did it twice before Dixon took three more shots of whiskey. The kid lined up his targets. He focused. Low Light could hit the target easily. It would be nothing. By then the kid was watching. He knew Low Light was missing his targets.

They lay on their belly's before Dixon stood up. He weaved. Cooper MacBride put the scope away. He faced Dixon and held out his hand for the sniping rifle. He let Low Light take it. Michael Dixon stopped taking shots of whiskey and drank from the bottle. He walked forward.

"God DAMMIT!" He said.

The kid punched through the air.

Low Light stood a few feet away. He held the sniping rifle and scope in his hands. If Dixon wanted to get drunk he had nothing to do with it. The sun was setting. They were out on the dirt road for five hours. They would have to be back at base by lights out.

Low Light looked at him. He was fast drinking the bottle of Jack Daniels. He had a quarter of it down. If Low Light saw General Hawk as a father figure then Michael Dixon looked at Cooper MacBride as a father. He never grew up with a father. Low Light never grew up with a mother. He knew sons were protective of their mothers. That would never change. Michael was no different.

Michael still had his back turned. The setting sun made a shadow of his silhouette. He handed him the key. Cooper MacBride locked the rifle in the trunk of the jeep. Michael didn't bother to turn around. "You did that on purpose." Dixon said. "You could have made that shot." He said. Even with as many drinks in him Dixon could tell. He was a sniper. He had the best eyes on the Joe team.

Low Light shrugged. They were shoulder to shoulder. The arches faded in a hue of red yellow and orange. He listened and let Dixon vent. "You're the ranking enlisted." Low Light said. "It's your call." He said.

Michael Dixon turned around. "Would you_ stop_!" The kid shouted.

Low Light stepped back. It wasn't what the kid was known for. Michael waved his hands in the air. "Just for once will you stop fucking standing there and listen to me! God Dammit Low Light she's my mother!" He said. "I have eyes. I know what's going on!" He said.

He held his look and dropped his arms at his side. He watched Low Light as if he were looking for approval. He took a drink of whiskey. Low Light had nothing to say. The kid was busy swallowing back Jack and standing on the trail. Low Light let him. Dixon wasn't as clueless as he seemed.

"I saw her with General Hawk. How did she get to the diner then. It wasn't her car." Michael said. He held the bottle in his fingers. The desert followed him. He stood between red rocks. They were perhaps twenty feet high at the trail. He held his head in his hands. He looked up.

Low Light watched him. He looked at General Hawk as a father. The General held himself consistently. He was one of the few that Cooper MacBride admired. He would follow the man at every order. All of the Joes would. When the General was with Sharon Dixon Low Light stepped aside. It was unstated. The woman belonged to him. He could imagine what it was like for her son.

Now Michael Dixon looked at Cooper MacBride as a father.

Low Light didn't want it.

He sat down. "I don't know what to tell you Dixon." Low Light said. The sniper was standing in the dark of the desert. "I'm not the best one to ask." He said.

Michael Dixon watched the sun go down. It was time for them. He was a night sniper. The mountains and grass were at his ankles. He took a drink of whiskey out of the bottle of Jack Daniels. He didn't look at Low Light.

"I'm not stupid." Dixon whispered. "I saw General Hawk. My mom's not like that." He said.

"Neither is General Hawk." Low Light said.

At his side Dixon breathed. He smelled like whiskey. "Low Light?" He said.

"Yeah?"

"You meant to do that." Dixon said.

Low Light watched him turn his back. He faced him. He locked eyes with him. "You were the one that made that shot." Dixon said. "I was there. It was you."

Low Light stopped. Dixon sat on the ground. Low Light passed it off as drunken ramblings. He overlooked it. He heard Dixon mumble once. He was fast asleep. He bent closer. "Go to sleep kid." Low Light said. Michael didn't have his nightmares or insomnia yet. He was lucky.

Michael Dixon slept on the ground. He crossed his elbows and put his head down. Cooper MacBride sat next to him. He could stay like this for hours. It was night time. He had another eight hours. He pulled out his cell phone. Butch could drive his motorcycle to the base in the morning. He pulled Dixon's arm and walked him to the jeep. The kid was drunk. It would be a late night. He started the jeep and pulled out. In the passenger seat Dixon had his head up against the window. Low Light rolled down the window. The air would do him good.

The guard stopped them. That was where the greenshirt would be for the next month. Low Light showed his ID. The arm went up. He drove through the base until he came to the concrete block the greenshirts slept in. Dixon was still asleep. Low Light pulled in and parked. Dixon had his mouth open against the door. He was passed out. Low Light shook him. It was only nine PM.

He shook him again until he woke up. The sniper knew where to go. He fell on his stomach at the bed two places from the barracks. He had his clothes and boots on. Low Light pulled them off. In the corner Ehrenstein looked up from his book. They were gone for twelve hours.

Ehrenstein stood up. He came over. It was the first time Cooper MacBride heard him talk.

"Do you need some help?" Ehrenstein asked.

Low Light looked at him. The Jew was skinny with large framed glasses. He didn't look like a Joe. But he looked like he wanted to help. "Yeah just watch him for a while Ehrenstein." Low Light said. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

Ehrenstein went to Dixon's bed. He pulled up a chair and sat down. He took out his book.

In the mean time Low Light had a few things to go over with General Hawk. He went up to the Pit. He stood at the entrance. The door opened. Low Light walked into the elevator. He felt it drop before the fourth floor. At the end Beachhead was waiting for him in the hallway.

"I have to see General Hawk." Low Light said.

True to his word Beachhead stopped him. "I don't care who you need to see MacBride." He said. "Your ass is mine for the next month. You missed PT. Get the Hell out of here. _Private._" He said.

"Come on Beach!"

"_What_ did you just say?" Beachhead said. They were underneath the grounds away from the barracks. It was far from the rest of the Pit. Beachhead stepped closer. He might have been friends and roommates with Low Light before. But now Low Light was confined to Beachhead's anger. The rest of the greenshirts were watching. Low Light forgot how intimidating he could be. He looked at the ceiling and groaned.

"Drop and give me fifty." Beachhead said.

Low Light dropped to the floor. He put his hands on the ground. He clenched as he counted off. He pushed up on his hands. His back was straight and his toes touched the floor. "I need to see General Hawk." He said.

"When you're done and if I feel generous MacBride." Beachhead said. "Count it off!'

End Chapter Eight

Once a Story's Told


	9. Chapter 9

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Nine

Calm the Light

2100

Cooper MacBride was doing face plants. Above him Beachhead was counting. He missed every third count. Cooper knew he was doing it on purpose. He didn't argue. In the hallway some senior Joe's passed by. They looked at him in curiosity. They passed him by. A few snickered. He ignored it. He followed his pace. Beachhead didn't think he was working hard enough. It was true. He still knew how to do pushups. All of the Joe's could. They had to pass Beachhead's drills periodically. It was a requirement. They had to. They never knew when they would be called for a mission. They were the best soldiers in the world. That included Beachhead. He put his boot on the back of his neck. He started back to one. Cooper MacBride could be back at Fort Sill. Only he wasn't eighteen anymore. He clenched his teeth and kept going.

He was past one hundred when General Hawk stepped out of the elevator. He was in the same cloths as this morning. Cooper didn't stop. He watched him walk up. At this level all he could see was his shoes. Beachhead didn't pause. He saluted instead.

"Good evening General Hawk Sir!" Beachhead said. He seemed to press harder on Cooper's neck.

The General stopped. He looked momentarily. "What do you have Beachhead?" He asked.

Beachhead pushed harder. His arms strained. It made Cooper collapse. He was trapped between the floor and his boot. His cheek touched the tiles.

"This maggot said he needed to see you Sir." Beachhead smiled.

General Hawk waved him off. Beachhead let go. Cooper stood up and wiped the dust from his pants. He was sweating and out of breath.

General Hawk glanced at him. "Where is your sniper soldier? Did I not tell you to keep your sniper at your side at all times?" He said.

Cooper tried to keep his face neutral. Dixon was passed out from Jack Daniels in the barracks. It was why Cooper came here. The kid was showing too many signs. He saw it. "It's important Hawk." He said.

Hawk walked up so fast that Cooper didn't have time. They stood chest to chest. "First_, Private_, you _will _address me as Sir!" Hawk said. "Second you _will_ salute your General and give him the proper respect he deserves as your Commander. Third, unless it is a life threatening emergency, I will _not _hear you tonight. I have more important things to attend to. You will remember your rank Private." He stepped back. He crooked his finger at Beachhead. "He's all yours Beachhead." He said.

Cooper straightened. "Yes General Hawk, Sir!" He saluted. "I have to see you Sir." He said. He stayed still. He had to wonder what the General's more important things were. He seethed.

"And I said no soldier!" General Hawk said. "You will be silent or I can make it two months MacBride!" He walked past him and into his office.

Beside him Beachhead shoved him to the elevator. It was hard being a greenshirt.

It was ten PM when Cooper MacBride walked into the barracks. Dixon was still passed out. Ehrenstein was at the bedside. There were six greenshirts he didn't recognize in the corner. They were playing cards. It was the point between down time and lights out. It was Brooks, Popelka, Gilmore, Casteneva, Ridenhour, and Holt. Between all of them they looked like the poster children for Army Diversity. It was multicultural. Ehrenstein was the token Jew while Casteneva was Hispanic. Brooks and Gilmore were black. Popelka was Eastern European. It was MacBride, Dixon, Holt and Ridenhour that were white. Cooper was the only one over twenty-five. He was the old guy.

They looked up. Cooper didn't have to see their faces to know what they were thinking. He walked over and stopped at Dixon's bed. Ehrenstein closed his book.

"How is he?" Cooper asked.

Ehrenstein looked at Dixon. "He's the same. He hasn't moved." He said.

Cooper MacBride didn't know what else to say. Dixon was safe on base. He would feel it in the morning. That was when Cooper and the rest of the greenshirts would be doing drills. Dixon still had down time. He could stay in bed until noon if he wanted to. Cooper envied him. He was awake close to twenty hours. He didn't sleep before breakfast. He didn't sleep in the desert. He had six hours until Beachhead would wake them up. He was hesitant to close his eyes. It was too late to take a Trazadone. He would never wake up in time. He looked at Ehrenstein's book instead.

"Administrative Law and Regulatory Policy: Problems text and cases Seventh Edition." Cooper said. "Are you going to law school Ehrenstein?" He asked.

Ehrenstein nodded. "Not all Jews are rich Sir." He said. "My parents couldn't afford law school. I enlisted instead. The Army is paying for it. I just have to keep going until I graduate." He said it as if it were obvious. "I'm following Law and his dog. I hope to learn as much as I can."

Cooper watched him talk. "You don't have to call me Sir Ehrenstein. You outrank me. I'm a Private. You can call me MacBride." He said. "Law is a good guy. You'll get along with him if you get along with his dog. It's Law and Order. I've never seen him without him. It helps if you bring treats."

"Alright it's MacBride then." Ehrenstein said. "I'll remember that."

"In that case, MacBride, it's lights out!" He heard one of the greenshirts say. It was Brooks. The greenshirts were going to their beds. "Ehrenstein, that means you too!" He said. "Unlike some of us we have to be up in the morning." He stood next to the light switch. Cooper figured he was the one in charge of the barracks this month. He walked to his bed.

He stripped down to his boxers. He pulled the covers up but he didn't sleep. The barrack bed had to be the shittiest bed he slept in. Cooper knew a lot of shitty beds. He slept in every no-tell motel this side of Utah down to Tijuana. It was a twin with the head of the bed against the wall. At his room with Beachhead Cooper put his bed with one side flush towards the end of the room. It made one side for him to fall out of. It worked. In the barracks he could move side to side. He hoped he didn't wake up on the floor.

He didn't have to worry about it. As the hours passed he listened to the greenshirts shift and snore. He couldn't sleep. In his mind was too much of a memory. It wouldn't leave him alone. When he shut his eyes it was there looking back at him. He hadn't thought about it in years. It wouldn't be ignored. He pulled the blankets up to his chin. He laid the pillow over his eyes. When he went to sleep it was only his nose that showed. Beachhead used to wake him up until he got used to it. That was what he was doing when the drill sergeant burst through the door. Cooper MacBride had two hours of sleep.

He could stand at attention with the rest of the greenshirts. They were all groggy. Dixon looked up once and lay back down. It was his down time. Cooper only finished dressing in his military issue shorts and tank top. They made him feel like a kid. His balls sat too close to his skin. They were tight. The legs ended at mid thigh. His tattoos showed against his olive wife beater. The rest of the greenshirts were dressed the same.

They were run out until they reached Beachhead's obstacle course. It was four AM. Snake Eyes and Scarlet were there. Tunnel Rat and Cover Girl were with them. Cover Girl smelled like mangos and strawberries. They stopped and held formation. When they held their rifles above their heads Beachhead walked up with a stick. Cooper didn't have a rifle. He wasn't allowed. The rest were busy doing Army pushups. They dropped their weapons and held them at their waist. Then they put them over their heads. He shoved the stick in Cooper's hands.

"MacBride!" He said. "Join the rest."

Cooper held it. He felt it in his hands. It might have been sleep deprivation. He was known for it. He looked. "It's a stick Beachhead." He said.

The drill sergeant was on him. "Are you arguing with me MacBride?" He said. "That is United States Government Property. It comes from the God Bless America grounds you are lucky to stand on! You will keep it with you at all times. It is a right and a privilege to hold. That stick has more rank than you. You will never forget that. Do I make myself clear Private?"

"Yes Staff Sergeant" Cooper said. He went back into formation following the rest of the greenshirts and Scarlet and Snake Eyes. Tunnel Rat looked like he was going to laugh at his stick.

"You talk too soft! What did you just say?" Beachhead yelled.

Cooper's voice was always soft. Now he had to yell. "Yes Staff Sergeant!" Cooper replied. He dropped to the ground.

He heard a whistle. It was Cover Girl.

"Nice legs MacBride!" She said.

Tunnel Rat laughed. "Damn. You are one white man Low Light. Do you ever go out in the sun? Let me guess you have one of those skin diseases that you can't go out during the day." He laughed. They were busy gearing up for Beachhead's obstacle course. "Who needs to finish. We'll follow the glow sticks." He said.

Cover Girl winked at him. At the front Snake Eyes and Scarlet waited for the go ahead.

When Beachhead blew the whistle they took off. The greenshirts were younger. But Cooper MacBride had the experience. So did Snake Eyes and Scarlet. They were already at the rope wall. Tunnel Rat and Cover Girl were smiling. Cooper was the first one to jump to the ropes. He was surprised when Ehrenstein passed him. He was skinny and small but he was fast. Cooper had extra weight and height to pull up. He made it over before the first of the greenshirts could reach the top. It was now a race.

He had a sense of balance that would keep him in a tree for days on end. That was the reason why Cooper could pass the rolling logs at the end of the wall. He watched Ehrenstein struggle and hold on. The kid didn't give up. He held on with just seconds before he reached the end. By then Cooper was feeling his muscles.

They were at the five mile loop. Cooper concentrated on his feet meeting the ground. Behind him the greenshirts held steady. Cooper could hear them. It was Brooks again. He was talking with Popelka.

"Of course he doesn't have to get up. Did you see General Hawk? He can show up late for all he cares." Brooks said. They were steadily running through the desert. The loop went past scrub brush and rock that enlarged their shape. It wasn't daylight yet. It wasn't even sunrise.

Cooper MacBride slowed. He didn't have to. He could make the end. The greenshirts were two feet behind him.

Cooper MacBride was a patient and quiet man. To the Joe's not a lot bothered him. He was slow to anger. He had a long fuse. He never talked. Even the worst things he could pass off. He didn't involve himself when Snake Eyes and Scarlet had their problems. He looked the other way when Beachhead and Cover Girl had their romance. With Flint and Lady Jaye he ignored for years. It was a testimony to his endurance. He never said a word.

Now as he listened to Brooks and Popelka he had a plan. He slowed. The only sound was his shoes to the ground. It thumped in his ears. He waited. Just as he thought Brooks and Popelka split into two. Brooks was on his right. Popelka was on his left. He was steady with them as they ran. It didn't take long. He lifted his elbow and crushed it into Brook's nose first. Then he did it to Popelka. He heard the sound of breaking bone. They cried out before holding onto their noses. Beachhead was by his side before he knew it. Cooper didn't notice. He turned around. Snake Eyes, Scarlet, Tunnel Rat, and Cover Girl all ran over. Brooks was the one that pointed.

"It was him! He did it!" He said. He was holding onto his nose and walking circles along the trail. Blood dripped down his face. Popelka was smart enough to sit on the ground. He held his head to the sky and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's true! I was with him! I saw him!" Popelka said.

Beachhead looked up.

Cooper MacBride only raised his shoulders. "It was an accident." He said.

Brooks sat down. He shot daggers with his eyes. It wasn't until later that Cooper understood why. He was back at base. In the barracks Dixon was still asleep. He was finished with PT. It was six AM. He had the chance to take a shower. He let the spray hit him. In the shower were Ehrenstein, Holt, Gilmore, Ridenhour, and Casteneva.

Holt pointed it out. He was looking at Cooper's tattoos. It was the Roman Numeral X that spread across his shoulder and down his side. Four were on his abdomen. They covered his left side.

"Are those for your hits?" Holt asked. He didn't want to say kills.

Cooper shook his head. He washed his hair. "No." He said. Holt watched. "It's for every ten." He said.

They were fresh out of the shower when Beachhead stomped through. Cooper still had shaving cream on his face. He wiped it off. It was Gilmore, Holt, Ehrenstein, Casteneva, Ridenhour and Dixon. Brooks and Popelka stood behind Beachhead. In the drill sergeants' hand was a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Cooper MacBride cursed.

On his bed Dixon stood up. He was hung over. His eyes were red. They watered. He swayed on his feet. Beachhead walked past him. He stood before Cooper instead.

"This was found in the bathrooms under the sink MacBride." He said. He didn't want his disappoint to show. It did. He was at a crossroads.

Cooper MacBride had the choice between two things. He could blame Dixon. He would spend the next years watching his apprentice follow in his footsteps. Dixon was already succumbing to the demons Cooper saw. In twenty years Dixon would be no better off than he was.

He didn't hesitate.

"It's mine Staff Sergeant." He said.

End Chapter Nine

Calm the Light


	10. Chapter 10

For Winterhalt and capsarchic. A romance story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters. Rated T to M

Chapter Ten

Long Forgotten Now

0800

Beachhead allowed Cooper to eat breakfast. At the table Brooks and Popelka had bandages on their nose. They were packed with gauze. They stared at him while Holt and Ridenhour looked over their shoulders. They didn't want to meet his eyes. Ehrenstein did what Ehrenstein always did. He kept his face in a law book. In the corner Beachhead and Cover Girl were talking. He said something that made him hit his palm on the table. They all looked over. Cover Girl touched his arm and he stopped. Beachhead stood up and walked over. Cover Girl squeezed his hand and left. She had her head down. Cooper knew he would have hell to pay. If he had to run the course again he would end up losing his breakfast. He put his tray aside and drank coffee. The sleep deprivation was wearing on him. He had to stay awake. Beachhead was standing right in front of him.

"You're with me MacBride." He said. For once it wasn't a yell. He turned his back and went outside. Cooper followed him. In the parking lot he saw Dixon leave by the front gates.

Family week was turning into a disaster. It started when Cooper MacBride met Sharon Dixon. He couldn't deny the attraction on his part. He also knew his history. Sharon deserved and got better than what he could offer. He was jealous. He was jealous of Beachhead and Cover Girl. He was jealous of Snake Eyes and Scarlet. He was jealous of Flint and Lady Jaye. He was even jealous of Butch and Charlie. And now he was jealous of General Hawk and Sharon Dixon. They had something he would never have. The nearest he came was a fifty dollar whore and a back alley. He didn't have to know their names or remember their faces. He only remembered her hands against the brick wall when she bent over. That was where it ended.

Amy Taylor was the first girl Cooper MacBride made love to. It was also the first time he was truly drunk. He was eighteen. They went to the same high school and shared classes together. She had long black hair like an Ojibwe and brown eyes that laughed. Her father hated him. He had good reason to. Amy came from a good family. She was a straight A student. She would go to college and leave Crosby North Dakota behind. They always talked about leaving the small town. They would go to Great Falls or Minneapolis. It was the hopes and dreams of teenagers at the cusp of adulthood. They had the rest of their lives to look forward to. Cooper didn't know why she loved him. To the rest of the town he was poor white trash. His father was a drunk. They didn't expect the son to be any different. In a way they were right.

It was the end of May. It was the time of year when the snows were over. The planting season was just beginning. There was new grass on the football field. Everyone was looking forward to graduation. The high school kids spent their weekends at the local quarry. There were beer and liquor bottles between the graffiti. If the adults knew they looked the other way. It was a rite of passage. Their mothers and fathers did the same thing twenty years ago. In his father's shed Cooper and Amy laid on a blanket. It was clumsy and amateurish. What they lacked in experience they made up for with honesty. It wasn't passing childhood experimentation. He loved her. On the radio they listened to Boz Scaggs. Above him he heard a rain on the tiles. It drummed on the roof and trickled down the side as held her. He kissed her. In return she held him close. He wanted to stay like that forever.

When they rode on his motorcycle to the quarry that night Amy held onto his waist and put her chin on his shoulder. Her hair blew in the wind and she laughed. It should have been one of his happiest memories.

They were soaked and wet when they met their friends. They were laughing. Their friends had a bonfire going against the rock. At night in May North Dakota could still be chilly. Stacey Wagner was with them. They were all drinking. Cooper should have noticed the irritation on Amy's face when Stacey flirted with him. She sat too close to him making touches with her fingers. She passed the bottle of Jack Daniels around. Amy put it off. She let him take the drinks. She repeatedly asked him to take her home. Her father would be mad she said. Cooper was too drunk to notice the anger on her face. She stood up and walked off alone. That was when Stacey sat on his lap. She had her knees around his hips and the bottle in her hands. She smiled when she kissed him. She tasted like whiskey and smelled like cigarettes.

The hurt on Amy's face would follow him from Crosby North Dakota to Fort Sill Oklahoma two weeks later. He rode to Amy's house nearly every night. Her father chased him away. It was the last time he was in Crosby North Dakota. It was also the last time for Amy Taylor. Only now it was Amy Standing Elk. She was President of the Northern Region of American Indian Affairs. She over viewed the states from Minnesota to Washington down into South Dakota and across to Wyoming and Montana. She married a Blackfoot Indian from Missoula. She met him at the University of Montana. He owned the largest car dealership in Montana. He was a millionaire. They had five children that looked just like him. It was what Amy deserved.

Years later Cooper MacBride still fucked whores that tasted like whiskey and smelled like cigarettes. He didn't know why he was thinking of it now. It was the biggest mistake of his life. He saw Dixon heading straight towards it.

They were past the obstacle course and onto the loop. Beachhead was walking this time. He didn't have to say anything. Cooper followed beside him. In Cooper's hand was the stick from this morning. He used it to hike along the path. The sun was now up making the desert look bleached. It was as if the scenery was being coy and shy about its beauty. It was like a woman. The rocks and mountains only showed their true colors at dusk and dawn. That was when it would shine. Beachhead stopped at the two mile marker. He sat down on a rock and pulled off his mask. His hair stuck up.

"Sit down Cooper." He said.

He looked at him but didn't protest. If Beachhead was calling him by his name and took off his balaclava then Cooper knew it must be something important he wanted to say. And it was off the record. He found his own rock and sat down. He leaned forward on his stick. They didn't look at each other.

"You know for someone so smart you sure do stupid things Cooper." Beachhead said. "It's any reason why though. I would have probably done the same thing." He shook his head. "Mrs. Dixon is still good looking. Yeah I looked. I'm not dead." He snorted. "You're not as hard to read as you think. I've known you too long. I know she's Dixon's mom. There was no way you would go after it. I get that too." He said.

Cooper dug holes in the dirt with his stick. He concentrated. "It doesn't matter now Beach. She's with General Hawk." He said. His voice was back to normal. It was quiet and soft.

Beachhead nodded his head. He knew that much as well as anyone else. "I guess if I knew my C.O. was doing my mom I'd be pissed too." He said. "I also know that wasn't your bottle of Jack Daniels I found this morning Cooper. It was Dixon's." He watched his face. "I know that much. I've seen you drunk too many times to count. You weren't drunk. When you said you haven't had a drink in eight months I believe you. Some things I guess are worth taking the knocks for. That includes Mrs. Dixon and her son."

Cooper shook his head. "I'm not his father Beach. What the kid does on his time is his business." He said.

Beachhead stood up and yanked the stick out of his hands. He threw it away as far as he could. "Bullshit Cooper!" He said. "If you see someone standing in front of a train you don't just say that's what they want to do! You pull them off! You. Fucking. Pull. Them. Off. It's not whether you like it or not. Dixon looks up to you. Yeah you're not his father but that doesn't mean the kid won't follow your example. Hawk has been watching him since you came back from Sierra Gordo. He spent four days shit faced on booze. General Hawk knows more than you think he does. He thinks you can handle the responsibility. He sent you down to keep an eye on him."

Beachhead knew a lot about pulling people away from destruction. He did it with Cooper MacBride for years. Now there were two. He didn't want to watch Dixon float down the endless spiral he had to watch Cooper in. He would never change. But there was still a chance for Dixon. He was young enough to change his ways. Beachhead hoped he would.

On the rock Cooper sat there slack jawed. "General Hawk knows?" He asked.

Beachhead stood before him. "Of course he knows Cooper. The man's like Santa Claus. He knows when you've been bad or good. He sees what goes on his base. It's up to him to decide if it's important enough to say something. As for Brooks and Popelka those two jack asses probably deserved it. I've wanted to take them over a knee myself. That doesn't change anything though. You still broke their nose." He said.

"They were talking about General Hawk." Cooper grimaced.

"Yeah I know. You're not the only one with eyes and ears Cooper. If you ask me Hawk earned it. Dixon's mom's a little spit fire though. The way she goes up against him. He wouldn't put up with anything else. But General Hawk doesn't need you to defend him. It's not your place. If General Hawk has an issue with Brooks and Popelka he'll take care of it himself." Beachhead said.

Cooper stood up. He sighed. He looked at the sky. "So what will happen now?" He asked.

Beachhead shrugged. He went back to the loop. "I'm not going to tell General Hawk about the whiskey. That's between you and Dixon. I will tell him about Brooks and Popelka. That'll earn you a couple more months on the barracks. It's one for each nose." He said. "It'll keep Dixon close."

Cooper groaned. "Shit."

Beachhead smiled. "What are you complaining about? It'll be fun. That's three more months of PT Cooper." He said. "And get a haircut. You look like a fat Peter Frampton hippie."

"I'm not fat." Cooper said. He paused. "How do you know Peter Frampton?"

"Well you ain't fit either. You must've put on twenty pounds sitting down taking pot shots." Beachhead said. "Hey I had Frampton Comes Alive. That and Lynard Skynard." He said. Cooper figured he would. He was close to the loop. He turned back. "You're chalked in for your sniper qualifications in the morning. Do you think you'll be up to it?" He grinned.

"Gee I don't know Beach. It's been so long. It was Monday. I might've forgotten."" He said. It was now Thursday. Family week was almost over. Cooper thanked whatever Gods he prayed to and lifted his head. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"In that case I'll race you." Beachhead said.

Cooper stopped. He held out his hand. They shook hands. "Thank you Wayne. I appreciate it." He said.

In answer Beachhead shoved him back and took off down the loop. Cooper had his shoes beneath him before he had a chance to go after him. He cussed but smiled as he ran. They finished the rest of the loop in less than fifteen minutes. It was ten AM.

He met Ehrenstein at the barracks. He was busy wiping his face and chest with sweat."I was impressed with your time this morning Ehrenstein." He said. "You're pretty fast."

Ehrenstein didn't move. He kept his face down. "I was the only Jew in the state of Kansas. You learned how to be fast." This time he did look up. "Thank you for the advice Sir. The treats worked." He said. He smiled at him. "I'm going to the library. Do you want to come along?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure, I have nothing going on." Cooper said. He didn't even know the base had a library. "You don't have to call me Sir Ehrenstein."

The library was down six floors and behind bomb proof doors. Cooper MacBride didn't have the authority but Ehrenstein did. He passed his badge and opened the door. Inside it was cool and quiet. There were more books than Cooper thought there would be. More importantly there was internet access. The greenshirts weren't allowed but the Joe's were. He went to Facebook. In his search history was Amy Standing Elk. It probably wouldn't mean anything to anyone else if they looked but he sent her the link to Boz Scaggs. Amy would know.

Outside the rain begins  
And it may never end  
So cry no more on the shore  
A dream will take us out to sea  
Forevermore, forevermore

Close your eyes, Amie  
And you can be with me  
'Neath the waves, through the caves of ours  
Long forgotten now  
We're all alone, we're all alone

Close the window, calm the light  
And it will be alright  
No need to bother now  
Let it out, let it all begin  
Learn how to pretend

Once a story's told  
It can't help but grow old  
Roses do, lovers too  
So cast your seasons to the wind  
And hold me dear, oh hold me dear

Close the window, calm the light  
And it will be alright  
No need to bother now  
Let it out, let it all begin  
All's forgotten now  
We're all alone, all alone

Close the window, calm the light  
And it will be alright  
No need to bother now  
Let it out, let it all begin  
Throw it to the wind, my love  
Hold me dear

All's forgotten now, my love  
We're all alone

He checked out Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms and left.

The End

Long Forgotten Now

For Winterhalt and capserchic.


End file.
